Moonlight and Shadows
by josahlin
Summary: Immediately after HPDH, no epilogue. SPOILERS. Ginny realizes she can never love Harry enough. Only one person can. As Harry slowly finds out what, and who, this means, his quest turns into something unexpected and mysterious. Please review! Ch 11 up.
1. Chapter 1: Prologue

A/N: This is the prologue to my story, "Moonlight and Shadows". It follows right after HPDH, and it's totally compatible. This part may be a little boring, but I think it's pretty pertinent... so you should read it. This is a HP/DM fic, so if that bothers you... leave now. All characters and plot prior to this piece of fanfiction belong to JK Rowling, the one... the only... the great... yeah.

Enjoy :) If you see any glaring errors, just tell me and I'll fix it!

**Moonlight and Shadows: Prologue**

Harry, with the battle fought and won, and with his whole life still ahead of him, still felt he had to live on edge, because he never knew when another ex-Death Eater would try to make a comeback. And besides that... he still believed sometimes that his scar hurt, and that he still had a war to fight... and that he shouldn't really be happy.

He had every reason to be celebrating like every other wizard alive. They'd been celebrating for the past week, and they would probably continue for the next month... if not the next year. Harry and those closest friends who had fought most valiantly during the final battle still could not believe that they had so little to fear. They felt like hiding, they felt exposed and in danger still. And most of all, they felt utterly unready to face any celebration.

Some had accepted Harry's triumph immediately and were ready to move on. They realized that there was no real fear in their lives, and they were the ones at the heart of any celebrating.

For most of three or four days after the final battle, Harry didn't talk to anyone. It was impossible that anything but great loss came out of the war, in his eyes. So many people died, so many of those that he felt were his last chance at family– like Lupin. In fact, Harry realized that towards the end, he had wanted to regard everyone as family. Who else but family would be so thoroughly defending him and what he was doing?

Harry was distinctly apathetic toward everything. The only time he wasn't apathetic was when he felt ashamed and angry for feeling apathetic.

Most of Harry's friends had decided to stay with him in Hogsmeade for the week after the battle. Almost immediately, everyone had looked to Harry as if asking, "what now?" Harry was unable to respond to any feeling he had except for a reverence for the dead. So the first thing that came to mind was to hold a vigil there, at the castle, where so many had inhaled their last victorious breath. Everyone thought it was a perfect idea. Within hours, the papers knew and all kinds of people were showing up from every direction, just like they had for Dumbledore's funeral.

But this time, they all looked to Harry. He had no interest in saying any words of wisdom, or in saying any words at all, so Professor McGonagall took it upon herself to inform everyone that they could pay their respects to anyone in any way they felt was appropriate. Unfortunately, most people wanted to pay their respects to Harry. And Harry soon found out that "paying their respects" really meant bombarding him with questions and praise and all sorts of apologies for not believing in him all along.

Harry mostly kept out of the way, and he found himself visiting the forest several times, and standing right where he had been killed by Voldemort. He relived time and time again his conversation with Dumbledore, and mused that it was one of the most magical things that had ever happened to him, even though wands and spells and brooms weren't at all involved. He thought over Snape's memories and what they really meant every year that he sat glaring up at Snape's greasy evil nose, wondering what had ever happened to Snape to make him so bitter, or just why the hell he hated Harry so much.

He found, however, that his moody, apathetic façade really meant nothing to those around him, and no one understood that it was his way of mourning, or that he had quite enough to be musing over.

The Weasleys, the Longbottoms, the Lovegoods, Hermione, Dean, and Seamus all stayed in Hogsmeade. Some, like Lavender and the Patils, wanted to stay inside the castle– it was indeed more peaceful that ever it had been during school times. The Malfoys, to Harry's surprise, also booked rooms in Hogsmeade to stay near the vigil for the dead. Rumor (because of course there was still an outlet for rumours around Hogwarts) stated that Draco Malfoy's parents had lightly insisted that they leave soon after the war, but apparently Draco refused and told them they could leave, but he wouldn't budge.

Only Harry knew that Malfoy's parents would never leave him for the same reason Lily Potter wouldn't leave Harry. He had heard Narcissa Malfoy's terrified voice when she asked Harry if Draco was still alive, and he knew she had done everything to protect him since Dumbledore's death. Harry registered their similarity, but he didn't care much about it. Like having Draco's wand, it didn't matter unless it was useful.

Harry took his invisibility cloak wherever he went, so that if he needed to make a quick escape from too much attention, he could use it to skulk off to the forest. At the end of every day, he would return to his hotel room to wait for Ginny. She needed the company of her family very much at this point, and Harry didn't mind at all.

He found very soon that he was scared of when the subject of their future might come up. He hadn't been in one place for more than a few weeks for the past year, and he liked it like that. But he knew she would want to settle down with him; she had been waiting for that since the end of Harry's 6th year. Would he ever want to stop roaming to just be with her and live quietly? He had never lived quietly. Even with Voldemort gone, he didn't see why that should be any different.


	2. Chapter 2

Moonlight and Shadows: Chapter 1.

See Prologue for disclaimer and warnings.

As always, please tell me if you see any errors... :)

**Moonlight and Shadows: Chapter 1**

In a fit of embarrassment and awkwardness, his first night with Ginny in the hotel room with one bed was spent just holding her, since she didn't stop crying even when she went to sleep. Harry, of course, could neither sleep nor cry, and he felt extraordinarily guilty to see her crying, so he simply held her while both lay fully clothed on top of all their bedcovers.

The second night was even more awkward. Ginny didn't cry, and for a while they did nothing but stare at each other, while Ginny sat on the bed and Harry sat in an armchair on the side of the room. Harry couldn't think of what to say at all. She wasn't crying, so he didn't feel like he had to hold her, but he didn't feel like kissing her when he was so apathetic and couldn't put his heart in it.

"Harry–" Ginny started.

"You should get some rest," Harry interrupted. Ginny sat quietly for another minute, and then turned over and got under the covers. Harry stayed in his armchair, not thinking, and eventually fell asleep.

The third night, she had not cried, but insisted he come and be with her. So he held her on the bed as he had on their first night, silently. When he was sure she was asleep, and he was almost asleep himself, she suddenly turned over and kissed him, hard, on the lips. Her eyes were closed and Harry's eyes flashed wide open. She pulled back, looked at him, and kissed him again, the way they had kissed before Dumbledore's funeral. She opened his mouth and hungrily licked his tongue.

Harry disappointed himself by being able to do nothing. He was surprised by her sudden attack, but more than that, his unfeelingness rendered him motionless. He was ashamed and sorry for this, because he knew he was hurting Ginny. Indeed, she rose a moment later with tears running down her face.

"Harry..." she said wetly, reminding Harry immediately of Cho, and he winced.

"Harry..." she said again. She lay her lips on his chin and whispered, "I want you to feel me." Harry knew she didn't mean that she wanted him to feel her sexually. For the first time since the war, pain– as in, an actual feeling of hurt– shot through him. She couldn't understand that he didn't choose not to feel anything, or that he really wanted to feel her as much as she felt him, emotionally.

"I'm sorry," was all he managed to choke out. "Ginny, I'm sorry, I don't mean to..." Another tear rolled down her face.

"Harry, it's over," she said insistently, clutching the front of his shirt with both hands. "The war is over, you can feel whatever you want to, now! You don't have to be scared for anything, or... or... you don't have to want anything more."

He looked down at her, as she was pleading for him to feel all that she felt. She was happy; she had lost a brother, but she was happy... How did she do that? But she wanted him. She believed the only thing he could want was her, and she was telling him he had her already... and he didn't have to want anything more.

For a moment, Harry though she was right. He looked down at her and she was as gorgeous as ever, even with tears streaming down her face and that desperate, pleading look on her face. She was right... he had won the war, saved the wizarding world, kept thousands of families together– Harry thought briefly of the Malfoys– and after everything, he still had her, and she still loved him, and he couldn't possibly want anything more.

And then, he realized, he did... and that made him the most selfish man in the world. He shouldn't want any more, he didn't even realize what he wanted, but there it was, and she could never understand... and he wondered how to tell her this, and how she would react, and if she would plead with him again and try to make him realized she could give him anything.

But it didn't have anything to do with her.

The thought flashed across his mind, as if it wasn't his own, that whatever he wanted... it had to do with unfinished business, and he had to do something more. But what could possibly be unfinished? There were no more Horcruxes, no more Voldemort, no more Death Eaters... He was fooling himself. Somehow he knew that this had nothing to do with anything he'd ever fought before, and that his unfinished business was on a much more personal level...

"Harry?" came Ginny's voice. He looked down at her again, her tears had subsided a bit, and her grip on his shirt had loosened. But her eyes searched him and he knew she was really no calmer.

He'd done the only thing that came to his mind– he brought her head down on his and kissed her, and he tried to put as much emotion as he could into that kiss. She pulled back after a bit and looked at him, confused.

"Harry... I don't understand." She put her hands on either side of him and pushed up, so she could look at him better.

"Me neither, Gin..."

"No, Harry... what's wrong? Please tell me what's missing!"

"Ginny, I don't know! I don't know what's wrong, I don't know what's missing, I don't know what else I need. I'm sorry." He couldn't look at her, he felt like a coward... She looked at him for a moment longer, couldn't think of what to say, and then sighed and turned over. Harry didn't want to think anymore about what else he wanted. It made him feel so guilty to think that he didn't have everything he wanted.

Tonight, when he had come back to his hotel room, he was utterly astonished to see Ginny already there, sitting on the bed waiting for him. He awkwardly said hi to her, then hung up his cloak and sat down in his armchair while she said nothing. He dully hoped she wasn't breaking up with him; he didn't know specifically that was what he wanted, and she shouldn't just assume that... but she wasn't saying anything...

"Come here," she said finally, not looking at him.

"Wha–?" He started.

"Harry!" she said, more forcefully. "Just come here. Please," she added. He went over and sat next to her on the bed. She didn't look at him until he sat down, but when she turned to him, Harry was surprised to see her eyes full of lust, an emotion he hadn't noticed in her for a year. He detected remnants of sadness, though he couldn't tell if that was about him or about Fred and the rest of her family.

Then, in one movement, she put her hand on his shoulder, pushed him down on his back on the bed, straddled his hips, and leant over to ravish his lips.

Like the night before, he was too shocked and unfeeling to move at first. But when Ginny didn't lift up or come off him at all, he put his hands on her back and tried with everything he had to kiss back. And like the night before, this made Ginny sit up slightly and look at him with confusion.

"Harry... I want to do this. Please just let me be with you," she said, and came back fiercely onto Harry's lips.

_What the hell did that mean?! _Harry wondered. _Am I not supposed to be trying to show her I love her? What about feeling her and stuff, like she said yesterday? What about... wait... 'just let me be with you'? Did that mean... what?!_ He came to the conclusion that tonight, Ginny "being with" Harry was meant in all ways sexually. Especially since she now had her hands at his pants zipper, his belt and button already undone. He was staring up at the ceiling while she kissed her way all along his abdomen, the whole time taking advantage of his straddled position to grind into his groin.

Finally, as he came to the end of all his questions about what _Ginny_ was doing, he wondered what _he_ was doing... and he realized he wasn't really doing anything. Which was probably the opposite of what Ginny wanted him to do... he tried to make himself gasp in pleasure as Ginny's tongue wove around his bellybutton... tried to make himself get excited while she slowly unzipped his pants...

He couldn't let her see him like this. _She probably already knows something's wrong_, he thought, _because she's felt me hard before and she knows... she knows nothing's happening..._

Desperately, he tried to think of something that would make him hard, like she wanted him to be... it wasn't working... The only thing to ever turn him on was Ginny, and she was right in front of him... he'd never once looked at porn, but he tried to think of any girl, naked and writhing below him. An unbidden flash of blonde came to mind and briefly he thought he felt a stirring in his groin... but no, Ginny was a redhead, he didn't like blondes...

Nothing was working, Harry was infuriating himself... he couldn't even get excited for his _girlfriend_... what was wrong with him? As he got more and more angry it was even more difficult to get excited by anything, and finally anger subsided as he was filled with nothing but sadness... it would never be the same with Ginny again, but he couldn't fake loving her any more.

Suddenly he knew that's what he had been doing for the past week... the war had changed what he wanted, he didn't know why... he loved Ginny, like a cousin or even a sister, and suddenly it felt horribly wrong that she was lying on top of him, about to slide his pants down his hips. For a second before he moved, she barely glanced up at him, and he was sure a tear was about to fall from her eyes. _So she knows it's wrong, too..._

In Ginny's moment of hesitancy, Harry sprang up, throwing Ginny sideways onto the bed. He had his pants zipped and buttoned before she'd even said anything, and was doing his belt when she burst into a sob, saying his name.

He felt almost as much guilt with that sob as he had when Sirius had died.

"Ha– Ha– rry..." Ginny said. Harry sat back down beside her and put his arm around her shoulders. _Like a brother_, he mused. _Not that she needs any more of them..._

She stopped sobbing shortly and simply stayed silent while a couple more tears rolled down her chin. But when she looked back up at him, it was with all the love she'd ever shown him.

"You don't trust me?" she asked, although it sounded more like a statement. Harry's heart sank.

"Ginny, I trust you immensely. I know you wouldn't hurt me, and you haven't ever hurt me. I'm hurting myself... for hurting you. I hate what I'm doing to you, and... I just can't... do... anything..." he finished lamely.

She looked at him a moment, still with so much love in her eyes, before she said, "I know, Harry... You don't have to feel guilty about it... because actually, you aren't hurting me." She paused, and Harry didn't know what to say. "You aren't like the rest of us, Harry... we all believe that love is an earthly feeling, and I don't think you do. You realize like no one else can that love cannot possibly be earthly and mortal.

"There isn't really supposed to be an 'us,' is there, Harry? Because I can already tell that you know this about love, and I would never understand it. You are only going to find one person in the world that knows this like you do..."

"But you just told me all that... how can you not understand it if you just told me..."

"I can put it into words, Harry... and you wouldn't be able to tell anyone what you know about love. To you, it just is."

"Ginny," he swallowed. "I'm so sorry..."

"Me too, Harry. I've always wished I could be the one for you... but I can't fly away with love. My family doesn't let themselves go easily, we're really protective... I mean, you know all this, but the point is that I can't let love take me away, because I've always been a little fearful of that... and you have to find someone who will. But I know it's not all right with us, I know we aren't really compatible... with our different types of love... but I just hope we both end up really happy–" at this point she started to cry again, and she finished wetly, "because we were really great together."

Harry's arm tightened around her shoulders as she sniffed a few times.

"Ginny?" he said after a bit.

"Yeah?" she answered, not looking at him.

"I... I think I want to go take a walk. But could I come back, you know, here... later?"

She nodded and whispered, "please." He gave her one last squeeze and got up to get his invisibility cloak.

On the main road of Hogsmeade, no one was really out and about. If they were, they were making their way to their hotel or perhaps to one of the pubs. Harry walked briskly, but he found that wasn't good enough. He was leaving Ginny, never going back to her as a boyfriend again... and he felt like he should be running away. Not that he was eager to leave her behind, but because it had been so long since he had actually run away from something, and he missed the adrenaline.

And so, he ran. He ran all the way up Hogsmeade's main street, up to the Shrieking Shack, briefly debated whether or not to go further, and decided it couldn't hurt. He was almost to the point below a rocky cliff where he, Ron, and Hermione had followed Sirius up to his secret cave hideout, and he decided to stop there.

He panted, waiting for his breathing to slow down, not bothering to be quiet anymore. He thought about taking the cloak off, but no one had to tell him anymore to be safe before all else, so he kept it on. He was about to turn back and make his way to Hogsmeade again, when he saw a light precisely where he thought Sirius' cave had been.

The light was surely made by a wand, but it was gone before Harry could be sure. He listened for anything– a scuffling, rocks moving, breathing– but he was too far away and too unsure that there was really anyone there at all to distinctly hear any noise.

Was it time for another adventure? Was he really aching that much for some excitement, that he needed to investigate something like a light in a cave only on suspicion? He might invade someone's privacy severely... people really needed it right now...

It was with great disappointment that he wouldn't be able to solve another mystery that Harry turned back to Hogsmeade.

He had only taken a few steps, however, when he tripped over something and went sprawling across the path. The cloak managed to cover everything except his shoes and ankles, he thought, and since it was dark it didn't really matter. He was getting up, trying to look for what he'd tripped on, when a voice come from behind him.

"Trip jinx, Potter," Malfoy said, sounding exactly like he had when he'd caught Harry leaving the Room of Requirement in 5th year.

"Malfoy," said Harry, getting up and taking off the cloak while brushing himself off. "I should have known," he muttered.

"Should have known what? That I'd see you in the _fall_?" he laughed.

"Nice to have your wand back, then, is it? Glad to see it actually succumbed to calling you its owner again."

"Straight to the point, Potter? Yeah, it's nice to have my wand back. Actually," he paused, and Harry thought he was going to jinx him again, "I came down here to...er... well, most would call it showing gratitude."

"You're thanking me by tripping me?"

"No, Potter. That was to make sure it was you. I wouldn't want to confuse your dense ruffled head by giving you such mixed signals, would I?"

"Wait a minute... you came _down_ here? Does that mean..."

"Then again, it's so easy to confuse you that it probably wouldn't have made any difference... Yes, Potter. There's a cave up there–"

"I know about the cave. Aren't you staying with your parents?"

"_I_ was the one on the inquisitorial squad, Potter. I'll ask any questions," he snarled. Harry stayed silent, but Malfoy said nothing more.

"Well... er... you're welcome, I guess, since that's what this is all about..." Malfoy brushed this aside.

"Where's your girlfriend, Potter? Did she finally realize you're not a saint? Or did she actually tell you you're too good for her?"

Harry looked at the ground. This hesitancy cost him dearly, he knew it, any moment Malfoy would laugh and make a joke about how Harry was too good for everyone and he might as well go to hell for that... But Harry couldn't help it. Ginny's words had struck something in him– he hadn't realized himself that he and Ginny were wrong together until she had used her own words to tell him. And what she told him about love... it was exactly right. His mother was mortal... but her love would never, ever die. With the end of the war, with Voldemort's defeat, and with Snape's memories... they all taught Harry that humans would never, ever understand love, and that love was really the most unique gift that could be given.

With Ginny, it was only brotherly love that he could give her.

Harry had expected Malfoy to laugh, or to make any other indication like he always did that love was too stupid to bother with, only for the weak. He looked back up to see Malfoy staring vacantly at some tree, as if lost in thought. Harry's first idea was that he was under the Imperius Curse, but then he knew instinctively that no one was around to perform the curse.

None of Malfoy's icy cold demeanor had left his eyes, but he obviously wasn't thinking of taunting Harry. Harry looked for any recognition in his eyes, but all he saw was the moonlight and some shadows. In fact, Malfoy's whole body seemed to reflect moonlight and shadows (Harry thought vaguely of Lupin, before pushing the thought out of his mind). His white-blonde hair and pale skin almost glowed opalescent and pearly in the moonlight, but every bit of him was shadowed.

Harry had never looked at anyone like this, from a surface level. He knew he tended to look for a person's soul before anything else. Maybe it was because he knew Malfoy didn't really have a soul that Harry was able to look at his shell and wonder slightly why he was so tightly wrapped up in it...

"Yeah, well... bye, Potter." Before Harry had even registered these words, Malfoy had turned away and was walking back along the path to his cave. He stood for a moment, realizing it would be foolish and pointless to call Malfoy back, but all the same wondering about what had happened.

He remembered Ginny's wish for him to come back to her, and walked back while putting his cloak on again. It was only when he was almost back to his room that Harry registered that he had another mystery on his hands... one he wouldn't let go.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Yay for chapter one! mmmmm can't you see Draco glowing? ah.

Hmm what was that I saw? A little cliffie? Oh, surely not... :)

Another A/N: I'm sooooo sorry to do this to y'all right in the beginning of the story, but it doesn't look like I'll be able to update for a couple days. If I do, it's Christmas early, right:) But take heart, I WILL be able to keep writing. Just no updates. So look forward to maybe two more chappies in a few days! Thanks :)


	3. Chapter 3

See Prologue for all warnings and dislaimers.

**Moonlight and Shadows: Chapter 2**

Harry woke the next morning early, with his head throbbing. Ginny had already left, so he showered and dressed in silence, wondering what to do that day.

His first mission was to find Hermione and tell her that she had to get rid of his headache. Then... he didn't know what. He was tired of going to the forest, and contemplating his death... which sounded almost suicidal, but his death, strangely, was in the past...

The invisibility cloak was stashed in his pocket for the walk up to Hogwarts, for the first time in a week. Even if he had to face the world as a hero... well, he just had to face the world.

He had regrets almost immediately. As soon as he walked outside, he was asked to sign autographs, kiss quills (for good luck), and pose for pictures. To his horror, he was also offered a great number of goblets full of what looked like suspicious Weasley love potions, and his stomach lurched. Would there _be_ any more Weasley love potions?

Harry avoided all that he could, plagued all the way up to the castle. He spotted Hermione quickly, over near the entrance to the hospital wing talking to Luna's father. _Probably apologizing again_, thought Harry. Mr. Lovegood seemed in danger of hurting himself if he didn't apologize to Ron, Harry, or Hermione at least five times every day. Harry tried not to get anyone's attention as he walked over to Hermione.

She hugged him immediately and Mr. Lovegood said, "Ah, Harry–"

"It's OK," he nodded, before he could utter an actual apology. "Listen, Hermione..." They smiled to Mr. Lovegood as a goodbye, and walked off. Hermione fixed his headache perfectly in a corner where no one could assume Harry Potter had yet another ailment.

"Harry this reminds me–"

"My scar is fine," he said automatically. Hermione looked taken aback.

"I know, Harry. Why wouldn't it be?" She went on without waiting for an answer, "No, actually... this is about... well... after this is all over, when we go home, I was thinking of going into... well, doing... er... Healer training."

"That's great! You would be fantastic at it, Hermione!" Harry tried to break through the barrier of his apathy to respond with as much enthusiasm as he could muster.

"Really? You think so? Because I keep having second thoughts... See, I don't really know what Ron plans to do... and I don't want to–"

"You mean you haven't told him yet?" Harry asked, incredulous.

"Well... no... I didn't–"

"Hermione, you have to tell him. Trust me, he's sitting somewhere right now contemplating how to break it to you that he thinks you should go into Healer training." She smiled.

"Really?"

"Yes. Hermione... it's your future and his. You have a part in it."

"Wow, Harry... thanks. You sound like you know what you're talking about, actually... Did Ginny and you–"

"No," Harry answered shortly. Hermione was looking at him curiously, so he said, "I'm er... I'm not really Ginny's boyfriend anymore." Hermione gasped softly.

"Harry, there must be some mistake... I've already seen her this morning, she looked really happy... what happened? She'd be really devastated if anything serious really happened... you must be mistaken, really..."

"No, I'm not. We talked it out, we're fine... but Ginny's, like, my sister. All of them are... you, too... like, the siblings I never really had..."

She hugged him fiercely again, and said, "oh, Harry..." into his shirt. "And she's fine with it?" she said as she pulled away.

"Yeah, she kind of... initiated it." Hermione was studying him.

"Should I just ask Ginny?"

"Yeah, actually," said Harry, relieved. "She'd know how to tell you, er, better..."

"Alright," she patted his arm. "Oh, and Harry. McGonagall would like to speak to you."

"Where is she?"

Hermione shrugged. It felt odd not to be told to see Professor McGonagall in her office. But for all he knew, hers may be one of the many offices that was smashed.

He found her leaning over one of the many ill students with a Healer. As he got closer, he saw the student was Dennis Creevey, who had probably come back with his brother, Colin. Harry felt a stab of guilt looking at Dennis just like he did with everyone else he saw or heard about who was injured or killed.

"Professor?" he asked.

"Ah, Potter, yes, I need to speak with you," she said, still attending to Dennis.

"What happened to him?"

"Broke a leg in three places, and cracked two ribs and his skull," McGonagall answered.

"Hit with two Stunners, too," added the Healer, who beamed at Harry. Harry weakly smiled back. "We fixed everything that was broken in no time, of course. But the boy is small, he shouldn't have endured two Stunners..." she shook her head. The Creevey boys were indeed tiny, and Harry wondered that Dennis was still alive at all.

"So he's sort of in a coma?" Harry asked.

"A what?" replied the Healer.

"Coma... you know... er... nevermind," said Harry, realizing that being in a coma must be a Muggle thing.

"Well, he's undergoing exactly what happened to Minerva here a couple years back. He's in an extremely deep sleep that he might just have to come out of on his own," explained the Healer, whose name badge read Paula. Harry rolled his eyes inwardly, as she had just explained the symptoms of being in a coma.

But he understood why Professor McGonagall was leaning over Dennis so intently– she had been struck with four Stunning Spells at the same time, and it had taken her a few days to come out of her coma. Dennis had been unconscious for a week.

Without looking at him, McGonagall said, "well, Potter, better come with me," and she drew herself away from Dennis.

Harry followed her out of the Great Hall into the classroom he used to have Transfiguration in. The classroom was relatively unscathed, except that neither of the windows had glass in them, and glass shards were scattered all over the floor.

He perched himself on a desk while McGonagall shut the door. She looked pointedly at the glass on the floor, as if daring it to really be there, before saying, "evanesco" and turning to Harry.

"Now, Potter, I'm sorry if this comes off as insensitive. In no way would I purposefully find myself being insensitive about this whole situation. You've realized, I'm sure, that people care more about your word than about the Minister of Magic's right now?"

_That hasn't changed much_, thought Harry. _Seeing as there isn't even a Minister right now_. "Well... yes. They're looking to me to tell them what to do and I don't know what to say," he said.

"Quite right, Potter... and I think they know that. Now, I'm reminding you again that no one is trying to be insensitive, but Potter... we've all been mourning for a week. We want to remember the war, in both how great it was, and how terrible, but I believe we need to move on. The war is over," she said insistently, reminding Harry of Ginny. "The war is over, Potter, and I suggest that you tell everyone something."

"You want me to tell them to go home and start having parties, like the rest of the wizarding world?"

"No, Potter. Actually, I think that is a very bad idea. Especially since there's so much work to be done around here." He looked at her and she nodded to him, then left the room.

Harry made his way up to the Great Hall again. He hesitated by the staff platform, just as he had after the war, to make an announcement. He caught Hermione's eye, then looked for Ron, but caught Malfoy's eye instead. It was odd that he was here, at the castle, when he seemed to be hiding from something in his cave. Malfoy's eyes didn't narrow, but Harry certainly didn't get any encouragement from them, either.

He stepped onto the platform and almost immediately silence fell in the hall.

"Hello, everyone. We've had a week of peace, which is better than any of us could say for a long time." Here, clapping and a few cheers interrupted his speech. He went on, "I'm very glad that so many of you chose to stay at Hogwarts to pay tribute to the fallen or injured. There have been many recoveries, and we expect so many more.

"But now, I think it's time that we all start thinking of rebuilding our world, the way we want it. Think of how Voldemort would be building his world if the war was lost. And then think of how much better we can make it. Some will start with their houses, making them homes once again. Some will start with the Ministry. And some will stay here, and help rebuild Hogwarts."

Cheering met this last statement. "Please tell everyone you know that it is their duty and yours to make sure our new world is created with peace," he finished. If he said anything else it would just turn out mushy and unlike him. So, he left the staff table and was greeted with requests for autographs and pictures again.

Forcing his way through that mess, he tried to make his way up to Gryffindor Tower. He knew that was the place to start if he was going to take on rebuilding the castle. Halfway up a set of stairs, he heard running behind him and turned to see Ron and Hermione catching up, panting.

"Harry, mate... Your fan club has never been this big," said Ron.

"We thought about actually jinxing them to get through and leave them behind," said Hermione. "But that wouldn't really go under the category of 'creating our new world with peace,' would it?"

"Shut up," answered Harry, appalled that she would actually make fun of his speech. Ron and Hermione laughed.

"Harry, I'm kidding. Ron and I thought that speech made a lot of sense, and I'm glad you said something to them all."

"Yeah, well..."

"So, we're starting with Gryffindor Tower, then?" asked Ron, as they reached the Fat Lady. She was unscathed, but parts of the corridor across from her were almost blocking the passageway.

"Ah, my victorious little vanquishers, I hadn't seen you all year!" said the portrait.

"Is there a password?" asked Harry.

"Not for you!" She said merrily, and swung forward to let them in.

"What about for other people? There are going to be lots of people coming and helping us, we want them to be able to get in any time..."

"Well, for them..." she thought, still swinging on her hinges. "How about... 'Harry Potter'?" Harry sighed, exasperated, but Ron said, "Perfect!" and entered the room.

The common room was littered with everything that made up the tower. Glass, stone, fluff from pillows and couches, shards of whatever trinkets were lying around, ash from the fireplace, and wood from the doors and tables were all strewn about the room, making it obvious that a great number of Death Eaters had entered the castle by way of Gryffindor Tower.

Ron groaned, "This is going to take forever, mate." Hermione looked around helplessly. But Harry had a sudden inspiration.

"Kreacher?" he said. At once, there was a load crack, and Kreacher appeared. He looked more disheveled than last time they'd seen him, all the way back in Grimmauld Place. But he still had on his cleaner towel and he still smiled at Harry.

"Master Harry, Kreacher was wondering when you'd call."

"How have you been, Kreacher?" asked Hermione kindly. Out of habit, it seemed, Kreacher glared at her, but then seemed to remember she was his friend and said, "Kreacher has been well. Kreacher heard Dobby was killed, Master Harry."

"Yeah, Dobby got us out of a tight spot, but Bellatrix actually killed him." Harry looked at Kreacher curiously, waiting to see what he'd say, but Kreacher seemed utterly confused about how to take the piece of news. Finally, Harry went on.

"Kreacher, where are all the other house elves?"

"Most is in the kitchen, Master Harry. Some is in the Hospital Wing."

"What are they doing?" Kreacher looked completely ashamed at this question.

"They isn't doing nothing, Master Harry," he said as he looked at the carpet.

"What do you mean?"

"Some people has come looking for food, and they fix them food. But no one gives the Hogwarts elves orders anymore, Master Harry. We doesn't know what to do anymore with the different times."

"Well... how would the Hogwarts elves feel about helping us clean up?"

Kreacher brightened so much at this that Harry might have thought someone had told him he was getting all the Black family heirlooms back for Christmas.

"Master Harry, we is delighted! The house elves know how to help! Thank you, Master Harry!" And he disappeared with a crack to tell the other elves. Harry stood up and looked at Ron and Hermione.

"What did that mean, that they knew how to help?"

"I think it has to do with their brand of magic," answered Hermione. "They can seal things the way wizards can't."

"What does that mean?" Harry asked. But his question was answered when Kreacher came back with at least two dozen house elves.

Together they worked until mid-afternoon. Most of the D.A., whether they were in Gryffindor or not, and quite a few of their family members, came to help with rebuilding Gryffindor Tower. The humans could point their wands at an object, and immediately a house elf would send a flash of lavender light that would seal the object together. This was especially useful since though the wizards would be able to piece a rock wall back together, it might still have holes in it, and it would never be fit for any protective charms. The house elves ensured that none of the objects would break again, and they even took the time to put all the protective spells they knew on every part of Gryffindor Tower.

Harry marveled that they were actually done in less than a day. Meanwhile, Professor McGonagall was organizing the removal of the mourners from the Great Hall. Anyone still unwell was to go to the Hospital Wing. Harry was happy that most families had chosen to bury their dead on Hogwarts grounds; he thought it was fitting, since Hogwarts housed more good memories than bad for almost everyone.

Now, he had not only the wizarding world, but also the house elves, looking to him for guidance. He told the house elves to set tables up in the Great Hall so that everyone could eat a free meal there, and the house elves outdid themselves with the feast that night.

Harry sat with all of the D.A. members and made small talk with them, looking around the hall to see who had come. Most everyone he had seen over the past week was still here– the man from Dumbledore's funeral and Bill and Fleur's wedding, Cornelius Fudge (Harry wondered if he expected to be made Minister of Magic again), Rita Skeeter (_Why doesn't Hermione put a stop to her?!_), and surprisingly, Gilderoy Lockhart, who looked like he was in his element with several important people who looked impressed by him. _Poser_, thought Harry.

To his annoyance, he caught Draco Malfoy's eye for the second time that day. Harry noted that he was sitting at what was normally the Hufflepuff table, without his parents. He looked around for them, but they were nowhere to be found, and Harry turned his attention back to his meal.

He left after most of the Hogsmeade crowd, which had dwindled since Gryffindor Tower had been cleaned. More people wanted to sleep in the castle in the newly cleaned quarters. Harry left alone, with a questioning look at Ginny, whose nod told him that he could sleep in their room again, but that she was going to stay in the hall a while longer.

Luckily, he found himself walking to Hogsmeade alone, without even needing to put on his invisibility cloak. He looked at Hogwarts' ornate gates as he walked down the dark path, his mind blank. Suddenly, the gates were swept from view and he was looking at brown earth instead. This time, he didn't even consider that he had tripped over anything.

He got up, spat dirt out of his mouth, and turned to face Malfoy.

"Is that your usual greeting, then?" he asked.

"No, I reserve it only for highly bothersome dolts like you," answered Malfoy pleasantly.

"Should I be thanking you?"

"No need. It's my pleasure."

"What do you want?"

"Oh, to compliment you on your cunning little peace talk this morning. Are we all going to skip and hold hands, too?"

"Shove off, Malfoy," he turned around and headed back down the lane. Almost immediately, his right leg was pulled back again and he fell. This time, he broke his fall better, but that didn't make him any happier.

"Stop doing that! Merlin, is that like the only jinx you know?" he brushed himself off.

"Well, I happen to think it's a damn sight better than slashing you open in a dozen different places. Wouldn't you say it's really quite considerate of me?" Malfoy sneered.

"Listen, Malfoy. You know that was an accident."

"Did it look like I needed any unsightly scars?"

"Well, it shouldn't have made any difference, seeing as you were already branded with your stupid Dark Mark. That's unsightly enough."

Malfoy simply glowered. Harry wondered if maybe he had gone too far– any Death Eater still alive would be ashamed to have that cursed mark. Harry knew as well that it probably wasn't even Malfoy's wish to be a Death Eater. If his father wasn't so involved, and if Malfoy could have thought for himself and prevented it... But that was stupid. Of course it was Malfoy's wish. But as Malfoy spoke, it was with distinct malice and little dignity.

"Don't _even_... mention that to me... ever again, Potter," Malfoy managed to spit.

With that, Malfoy strode past Harry, not even bothering to look at him, and headed toward Hogsmeade himself.

But Harry had made up his mind. He was not going to let this rest, desperate as he was for another adventure.

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Total cliffie! I won't pretend to be sorry... :)

Please review!

The next chapter will be a little shorter, sorry... but hopefully the news that the whole thing is a D/H scene will cheer everyone up. YAY! I might as well tell you now that the M rating is for _future_ reference... I'll just put it that way, yeah? Thanks everyone :)


	4. Chapter 4

See prologue for warning and disclaimer.

**Moonlight and Shadows: Chapter 3**

Harry let Malfoy walk for about a half a minute, then looked around, threw the invisibility cloak over him, and walked after him. He watched Malfoy closely in case he turned around– if he did, Harry's cover would be blown. Malfoy would know he was under the cloak and that he was following. But Malfoy never turned around, never stopped, and never spoke.

He was at the end of Hogsmeade's main road when Harry turned around. He wished he could send Ginny a message to tell her that he would be coming later. Then again, Ginny knew him so well that she would understand him being home late, especially since he wasn't in any gave danger.

Malfoy indeed walked up to the cave Sirius had been in. Harry kept even farther back so that he wasn't detected by the rattling of his footsteps on the stony hillside.

He didn't really know what he was expecting from Malfoy. Of course he wouldn't be plotting anything for the Dark Side. (Whenever this notion came into his head, Harry thought with relish, _what Dark Side?!_) He could be doing something for his parents, but why would he be so secretive about it all?

In fact, why was he being so secretive in general? What would Malfoy have to hide, now that everyone was familiar with his family and their post-war status, so to speak?

None of the Malfoys were going to Azkaban. It might have been because Lucius had bribed the Ministry. Or perhaps they felt sorry for Narcissa, who was so distraught over her sister's death it was feared she might go mad. Harry believed that since all the Malfoys had had their wands stolen at some point during the hostilities, they were therefore not responsible for much of the actual damage done by the Dark Side, and the Ministry probably believed that their loss of wands was punishment enough.

This made sense to Harry. He didn't believe any ex-Death Eaters were going to start rebelling again any time soon, let alone with much force. And he didn't believe that any one person would have the desire to rise to almighty dark power anytime soon, either. So unless Draco Malfoy actually thought he was going to become the next Voldemort...

_Wait a minute. That's a thought._ Harry actually paused where he was on the hillside to contemplate this.

No. Malfoy was too... Harry hesitated to call Malfoy cowardly. He wasn't a coward just because he didn't kill Dumbledore. That actually made him quite sensible. But Malfoy didn't have the guts to even try to be all-powerful. And he would never succeed.

Remembering why he was there, Harry continued forward.

As he drew level with the indent in the hill, he saw the cave a little way to the left. Malfoy was already inside it, and as he walked he saw a flicker of light which meant that he had lit a fire inside.

Harry walked quietly to the cave wall, and peered around it. What he saw chilled his blood, and to his surprise, made his heart sink.

He was watching Malfoy's back, and for the second time in his life, Harry was seeing Draco Malfoy cry.

His back shook as he sat on a rock with his head in his hands. If Harry wasn't watching him, he would have no idea what Malfoy was doing, for he was crying absolutely silently. After about a minute, his head rose out of his hands.

"Potter, there's no use in you standing out there, you might as well come in."

Harry jumped at least three feet in the air, figuratively. Malfoy had not looked toward the cave entrance, had not even moved except to lift his head, but his voice was as clear as if he was talking to Harry face-to-face. Harry had not a clue as to what to do. His heart was beating almost as fast as it had when he had been an intruder in the Ministry, but why? He had nothing to fear from Malfoy; he had learned that long ago. But he was an intruder here, too, which made him feel slightly guilty– not to mention that the last time he had seen Malfoy crying, what followed involved both Crucio and Sectumsempra.

He might be able to get out be creeping backwards slowly and just retreating, but his curiosity, of course, held him in place. He could stay where he was and let Malfoy come to him if he was so confident that Harry was really there. Or, he could simply do what Malfoy asked and go into the cave, since he _was_ the intruder and deserved to be ordered around. That option might lead to an all-out duel inside, however.

Malfoy stood up then but did not turn around.

"Tell you what, Potter. I'll drop my wand if you drop your cloak, and _then_ you can come in." He raised his right hand with his wand in it so that Harry could see, then dropped it on the stone floor, where it clattered. He crossed his arms in front of him.

Harry was stunned. Not only did Malfoy know for certain that he was there, but he almost read Harry's mind. He knew Harry's hesitation, anyway, and made a bargain with him, as an actual invitation.

_And he followed through with his end of the bargain, already!_ marveled Harry. With that, he realized that Malfoy was being more than fair with him by letting him keep his wand as well as coming into the cave, and his undying curiosity pushed him forward.

He took off the cloak as he stepped forward, and held it in his left hand. His steps weren't noisy by any means, but he knew Malfoy could hear him. Three hesitant steps into the cave, Malfoy finally turned around.

"That's better," he sneered, and picked up his wand.

_Of course. He's a bloody Malfoy, and you thought he was going to be fair all the way through this? He's going to hex you, you stupid dolt, and you thought he was going to be all nice..._

Harry glared at Malfoy before realizing he was already sitting back down on his rock, facing the fire. Malfoy let out a short laugh.

"What, thought I tricked you into another duel you weren't prepared for, Potter?"

"What's that suppo–"

"Well, I thought about it. But I came to the same conclusion that I did a few years back, remember? The realization that _you aren't worth it_."

Harry's green eyes narrowed at Malfoy's grey ones, realizing that the edges of them were still tinged with pink from when he was crying. He desperately wanted to say something about how Malfoy differed from Voldemort in that respect– Voldemort thought Harry was worth a fight, and Malfoy didn't... but he pushed the urge away. He knew he'd done enough damage for one night with his reference to Malfoy's Dark Mark, and he resolved not to push it further. Besides, if he wanted any kind of a story out of Malfoy, he would have to show at least a little respect.

"How did you know I was there?" he ended up asking, gesturing vaguely to the outside of the cave.

Malfoy raised his eyebrow and in that half-second, Harry noticed a piece of his blonde hair that was hanging down over that eyebrow, and suddenly his mind flashed to being on the bed with Ginny on top of him, and she was kissing his navel, and he was desperately trying to get excited, and there was that blonde lock of hair that briefly made his heart skip a beat, even though he didn't like blonde girls...

But it was over before he'd even registered that he'd thought it, and Malfoy was already answering his question, albeit rudely.

"Oh please, Potter," he said, exasperated. "You aren't the quietest bloke, and you're too predictable, besides."

"So you just knew I was going to follow you?"

"You've followed me before, you know. It's not that surprising. Anyway, I knew you're too stupid to piece things together, and I wouldn't answer your questions, and furthermore, I knew that you have this idea, Potter, that you should know every detail about every person. Brainless, really... unnecessary and impossible."

Harry sat down on the rock opposite Malfoy, across the fire. So, Malfoy knew he was going to come, did he? Well that just... _but... Malfoy knew I was coming. But he still was crying..._

"Anyway," Malfoy continued, "why are you here, Potter?"

"Didn't you just answer that yourself, Malfoy?" said Harry coolly.

"Didn't I just tell you you were too stupid to piece things together? No, Potter, I told you why I knew you followed me. But I have no idea why you're here."

Harry's mind spun. This wasn't making any sense. _This is almost..._ Dumbledore_ logic_, Harry realized. _But it's Malfoy. Malfoy can't think like Dumbledore. Malfoy just doesn't make any sense._

"Well," Harry struggled. Why was this so hard for him? Malfoy already answered his own question– he told Harry that he had "this idea" that he should know "every detail about every person." Harry didn't agree with this, but he couldn't think of what was wrong with the statement. Hermione had even said it before, in different words. But he still didn't believe it completely.

So, why was he here? But a better question came to his mind.

"Well, Malfoy, why are _you_ here?" Malfoy looked taken aback for an instant, but then narrowed his eyes.

"I should have known you'd be such a smart-arse about it, Potter. You can't even answer a damn question straight."

"In case you've forgotten, you just admitted that _you_ refused to answer any of _my_ questions."

"Yeah, that's right. But that's _me_."

"Why are you here?" Harry asked again. "Everyone already knows that your parents aren't here anymore, so it's not like you're fooling anyone by not having a room in Hogsmeade."

"Maybe the intent wasn't to fool anyone, Potter."

"Fine!" said Harry, standing. He was fed up with Malfoy's side-stepping and arrogant responses. If he didn't want to play straight, then Harry didn't have to make the effort to... to... what was he doing, exactly? What did he have to say to Malfoy to be able to talk to him, to understand him better?

"Leaving? So soon? I'm sorry you have to go in such an agitated state– you shouldn't be walking around this way," Malfoy said in his most fakely heroic, most sarcastic, sneering voice.

"You know what, Malfoy? I'm sorry too. I'm sorry that you have to be the world's most stuck-up git, and I'm sorry that you can't trust anyone." Malfoy laughed.

"What, like you?"

"Like anyone who can see you and not let you just spend the rest of your life crying alone up here."

Malfoy's laugh vanished, as Harry knew it would... but he wondered for the second time whether he had gone too far again. But if Malfoy really thought that Harry was just going to ignore the fact that he'd seen Malfoy crying twice, and staring moodily into space once, he could think again. He would never let it rest if he'd seen Harry crying. In fact, Harry remembered that when Rita Skeeter wrote that he had tears in his eyes, Malfoy and his friends walked around for weeks, at least, teasing him with tissues. And that was just a rumour in a newspaper.

He studied Malfoy, who looked positively alarmed. _He knew I saw him crying before I came into the cave... but he didn't do anything then. And now I bring it up and he's absolutely frantic..._

"Well, Potter, you..." But Malfoy, it was clear, was at a loss for what to say to Harry.

Harry shook his head, disgusted with Malfoy's pathetic arrogance and his unwillingness to... deal with himself. If he couldn't even face up to being emotional sometimes, then actually divulging his secrets was the least of his worries.

He'd had enough of Malfoy. At one point he'd even thought that Malfoy had led him to the cave, that he might actually _want_ to tell Harry something, and give up his act as a bullying snot for a while. But of course Harry had thought wrong. Malfoy was just as he'd always been, except that for some reason it was like they'd changed places. Malfoy was always the apathetic boy who couldn't be bothered with feelings. Harry, however, was confronted with death and despair since he was one. Fear, grief, happiness, and love followed intermittently. But now, Malfoy was crying and thinking sentimental thoughts (or so it seemed to Harry, as he had watched all the shadows and moonlight plague Malfoy's eyes the night before), and Harry was utterly numb.

He turned around to walk out of the cave, when Malfoy spoke.

"You can just go to your friends, then, Potter, and laugh like the untrustworthy arse you are. Of course that's all you would think of doing."

Harry turned back around, outraged.

"Believe it or not, Malfoy," he said through gritted teeth, "I am probably the person least likely to laugh at you." He turned at the entrance and strode back to the path that led down the hill.

He was almost to the path when Malfoy spoke again.

"Potter!" he called. Harry couldn't detect what he wanted from the way he said it. It wasn't angry, nor was it pleading... Harry couldn't place it at all. He turned around. All he could see was Malfoy's black frame against the firelight of the cave. When he spoke again, it was as if Harry were standing right beside him. He didn't raise his voice at all, but Harry could hear it quite clearly and distinctly.

"Prove it."

Harry stood a moment longer, but he knew neither of them was going to say any more, so he turned and made his way back down the mountain, all the while trying to decipher Malfoy's words.

Well, he wasn't going to tell Ron or Hermione any of this, so if that's all Malfoy was worried about, he could rest easy. How else would he prove that he was least likely to laugh at Malfoy? By not laughing at him, that was obvious. Harry didn't have any motivation to laugh at him anyway, he didn't think anything was funny about Malfoy's... displays...

He arrived back at his room, where Ginny was already asleep on the bed. As much as he wanted to ponder Malfoy's words, he was too exhausted. _And_, the thought occurred to him, _if I'm not worth a duel, he's not worth my thoughts._

But snippets of Malfoy's words swam unbidden in his head... _"You're too predictable"_... _"Prove it"_... _"You have this idea, Potter, that you should know every detail about every person"_...

_No, Malfoy,_ he thought bitterly, _only you._

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Oh, they're still evil little buggers... but of course they have their weaknesses. That's what makes the world turn...

PLEASE REVIEW! I'd like 10, pretty please, before I update again. Plus, I'm going to be gone for a few days again, so I won't be able to update anyway. I'll do my best to write, though. We'll see...

I redid my summary because it sucked, but please tell me if you have any catchy suggestions for it. Tell any other H/D fans about this story, and I will give you many kudos!

Anyway, the little purple button calls your name, and I would LOVE feedback. Thanks:)


	5. Chapter 5

See prologue for warnings and disclaimers.

**Moonlight and Shadows: Chapter 5**

Harry spent the next day much like the one before it. They had moved on to the Ravenclaw Tower, where the Carrows had been removed and there was just as much rubble as in Gryffindor Tower. It was appropriate that they addressed the three highest towers in the school first. Again, Harry, Ron, and Hermione were joined by at least as many people and house elves as the day before.

Things were peculiar for the Golden Trio since they weren't constantly looking for anything or discussing anything important. In fact, they had hardly anything to discuss except for future plans. This fell as a heavy weight on Harry's shoulders as well as, he suspected, Ron's. Hermione may have gotten enough O.W.L.s and credits from her sixth year to be able to move on with school, but Harry and Ron still didn't know where they stood on that front. Harry dreaded having to talk to Professor McGonagall and inquiring about whether he and Ron would need to take their seventh year at Hogwarts.

_If Hogwarts will even be open by the first of September_... Harry tried to push away this thought, but he knew that soon they would have to send out letters to anyone attending.

Suddenly he realized with a jolt that if they had to take seventh year, so would Draco Malfoy, since none of them had been at school.

Surely McGonagall would be Headmistress, but there were so many other teaching positions to fill. Hermione would be going to do Healer training, so she couldn't teach... Neville might, if he too didn't have to take his year over again.

Harry couldn't think about the future anymore. Thinking ahead was something he did in the past. He firmly resolved to live and think in the present.

The present, he found after another hour of trying not to think about his seventh year, directly involved the future. The first thing to do was to go to Professor McGonagall to ask about his further studies. He decided to do this at lunchtime, when they would be done with Ravenclaw Tower.

To his disappointment, many people seemed to have come to the cleaning of the towers simply for the reason of talking to Harry and pursuing a lengthy interview, photo session, or autograph signing. Nevertheless, there were quite enough people who were dedicated to the task at hand to get them finished with Ravenclaw Tower by lunch. When they were done, Harry made his way over to Ron and Hermione, who had started to examine the bust of Rowena Ravenclaw and her diadem.

"Ron, Hermione... I've been thinking a lot about what's going on next year. Do you think we're going to have to take seventh year?"

"Yes, I've been thinking about that too, Harry," said Hermione. It dawned on Harry that actually, he was surprised she hadn't investigated their options before now.

"Bloody hell," said Ron, looking between the two of them. "You don't really think they'd make us do that, would they? After this whole past year we've had?"

"It's not just us, Ron. I've been wondering if students in all years will need to retake their year. It can hardly be disputed that they didn't get a very adequate education this past year, can it? They didn't even get to do their exams... but then, it isn't even June yet, I wonder if they'd try to...?"

"Ah, Hermione," sighed Ron. "You are such a killjoy."

"Well–" started Hermione defensively.

"The only thing to do is to ask McGonagall," Harry interrupted. "Are you coming?" He walked out of the Ravenclaw common room, where the house members were still admiring their new settings, knowing Ron and Hermione would follow.

Professor McGonagall, they were informed by Professor Slughorn, was in the hospital wing looking after the injured. When Harry, Ron, and Hermione got there, however, it was to find Professor McGonagall and Madame Pomfrey in a heated argument, with students staring at them from surrounding beds.

"–Must insist, Minerva, really... my duties come foremost..."

"You forget that I am at least as capable?"

"Why, no, Minerva, I'm only saying that it might be wise to leave me to my practices–"

"–The practices _I_ taught you, Poppy! I am simply astounded that you can consider yourself so capable that you don't need _any_ assistance! There are positively hundreds of patients! You cannot expect to solely be effective and efficient enough!"

"Don't pretend that's why I'm refusing your services, Minerva. You know as well as I do that if you were to aid the medical branch of this Hogwarts reformation, you would place it upon yourself to become the leader of my organization. And _that_ is what I find most unwelcome!" Madame Pomfrey finished and bustled off to her office.

McGonagall stood in a huff for a matter of seconds before turning to the wide-eyed faces around her. "I am dreadfully sorry I cannot be of any use to you all. If you find your care... lacking... at all, please send a visitor to see me, and I shall be most happy to wait on any of you at any time." She turned to the door and Harry, Ron, and Hermione hastily arranged themselves outside the door so as not to startle their professor.

"Professor," started Hermione when she came out the door.

"Miss Granger," she answered, and nodded to Harry and Ron.

"Professor, we were wondering... our education was never really complete since we didn't take seventh year at all, and we _have_ been working for the past year, but I never got to take my N.E.W.T.s and I think that's a very important part of schooling..." Harry and Ron rolled their eyes. _Just like first year all over again_, they shared.

"Yes, Miss Granger, I'm aware of your standing in your education. All of your teachers share my opinion that all three of you are very bright and intelligent–" Ron shot a "yeah, right" glance at Harry, and McGonagall caught it. "Mr. Weasley," she said suddenly, making Ron turn red. "Do you really believe that you are unintelligent? I would venture to say that if you _were_ extremely unintelligent, you would not be standing here right now. You would be dead, Mr. Weasley."

There was a beat of silence in which Harry and Hermione turned hastily to Ron, and Ron turned a mixture of purple and green. McGonagall, for the first time that Harry had ever seen, looked like she might die of embarrassment.

"Dear Merlin, Ronald, I'm utterly ashamed... I'm so very, truly, sorry, I did not in any way mean to suggest that your brother was the least bit unintelligent– on the contrary, we teachers always took a secret fascination with the twins... oh dear, I'm so sorry, Ronald..." she was covering her mouth and Harry could tell that she wished fervently that she had never spoken. Ron looked at a loss for emotion at all, except perhaps a trace of surprise that arose from her calling him by his first name. She kept on, apologizing and backtracking and blubbering and feeling very sorry. Hermione, knowing this wasn't doing anything to help Ron at all, spoke first.

"Professor, please continue. You were telling us that you knew of our standing in our education..."

"Yes... yes," she said, still distracted by Ron. "Yes, Miss Granger. All of the teachers agree, as I said, that you three are extraordinarily talented and smart. Because of this, I know that you will all want to proceed into various sophisticated professions, which will require the most education available. And I know that most employers would not stand for any sort of minimal, incomplete education, _even_ if you did defeat Voldemort."

Ron groaned at this point and all of them looked at him, concerned. But he looked like his normal self, only extremely disappointed.

"So we do have to do it all over again?" he whined.

"Ron, it isn't 'all over again,' since we never took seventh year in the first place!" corrected Hermione.

"However," Professor McGonagall continued, "I and my colleagues are of the same mind that there is another option for you all." They brightened. "Skilled and experienced as you are, we have been wondering whether any or all of you would accept teaching positions in the fall?"

She positively beamed at their shocked faces.

"So... so, we would be skipping seventh year after all?" asked Hermione.

"Well, I think you might find that you could pursue those studies on your own time, with the help of any of the teachers at Hogwarts. At the end of the year, you will need to sit your N.E.W.T.s, but that should not be a problem for any of you."

"What if..."

"Yes, Mr. Weasley?"

"What if I don't really want to teach?" he finished timidly.

"You'll find you have two options. You may either attend Hogwarts as a seventh year student, or you may take the place as disciplinary manager from Argus Filch, who is retiring." She raised her eyebrows at him.

"What would Harry and I teach? If... if we were to do this?"

"I would entrust to you, Miss Granger, my post as Transfiguration professor. Mr. Potter, I daresay you will have figured out that you would take the position of the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor." Harry nodded.

"When do we need to decide, Professor?" he asked.

"I think by the end of this week. You might as well know now that I am making this same offer to Neville Longbottom and Draco Malfoy. While Professor Sprout is in the hospital wing, Mr. Longbottom may take her lessons. She may retire as soon as she is well, in which case he would continue the position. Professor Slughorn has already retired, and I will be asking Draco Malfoy to take his place.

"The rest of the students who need to take or retake seventh year will come to the school as students. All others will be repeating their year. We will be admitting new first years, however. The school will be unusually full, with an unusual blend of ages in the levels, as well. But I think we'll find we can handle it." The three stared at her, floored by her new proposition. "Please let me know by the end of the week what you plan to do. I'm going to alert Longbottom and Malfoy of this program, so you three don't get to them first." She smiled and raised her eyebrows, then walked off.

After nearly a minute of stunned silence, Ron spoke first.

"Bloody hell..."

"I don't know how she thinks she's going to make this work; it's mad, having twice as many first years as usual," said Hermione.

"Good idea, though, overall... we can go on with a type of job, but still be in school at the same time. And if we do well with our N.E.W.T.s, any employer's going to be just fine with what we accomplished," said Harry.

"Disciplinary manager..." Ron sighed. Hermione looked at him pityingly.

"I don't know how she thinks you're going to do well with that... you were never really great at any disciplinary duties as a prefect..." Seeing the look Ron gave her, she added, "but it's a great opportunity for an alternative to teaching. I can see why she thought it would really work for you, Ron." Ron didn't look entirely convinced.

They ate lunch and were walking up to the Astronomy Tower later, when the subject resurfaced.

"Well, I'm going to do it," said Ron. "And the first thing I'm going to do is to give Harry detention!" They all laughed.

They were almost to the door to the landing outside when Harry's heart started beating uncontrollably fast. Just on the other side of that door, Harry had stood less than a year previously to watch Dumbledore get killed, and he hadn't been up to the tower since then. Would anything be on the tower? Would there be any testament to Dumbledore's death? Suddenly Harry's heart skipped a couple of its double beats as he saw the same flash of white-blonde. He woefully associated it with Dumbledore, before remembering that Dumbledore had very grey hair...

They had been stepping over rocks since the bottom of the staircase, but the rubble increased dramatically twenty or so stairs from the door. Harry looked up in between negotiating the rocks slowing them down, and saw that the door wasn't shut all the way.

Immediately, he knew what they would find on the other side of that door. And just as quickly, he decided that Hermione and Ron should not find it with him. Hastily, he turned to them.

"Is... would it be ok if I went on up ahead and just... was there for a little bit? I... we might as well start on the stairway anyway... do you mind?" As he knew they would, Ron and Hermione looked at him somewhat sorrowfully before agreeing that they would work on the stone on the stairs while he went to the top of the tower. Harry could hear the approaching footsteps which meant they would be joined by house elves and more people soon. It would not take them long to clean up the rock around the door, but all he knew was that they could not come with him.

He sprinted as well as he could up the rest of the steps and grasped the door handle. He stepped outside and faced the wall off of which Dumbledore fell.

Malfoy looked up and sneered through red-rimmed eyes from where he was sitting against the wall, approximately where Harry was frozen in place when Dumbledore was killed.

"Is this supposed to be gallantry, Potter?" Harry stared back at him.

"'_Gallantry'_?" he said with disbelief. "No, Malfoy. This is _proving it_."

They looked at each other silently before Malfoy sighed lightly and put his head back in his arms on his knees. Harry could tell he was no longer sobbing– he may have been crying, but he remained still. Harry too remained in place by the door, finding himself very close to the spot Malfoy stood when struggling to kill Dumbledore.

"Potter," came Malfoy's muffled voice after a while. Harry was painfully aware of all the other people probably waiting to come onto the tower. But as he looked around, the stone seemed to be as intact as ever.

"Yeah," he answered.

"You were up here, weren't you?" Malfoy raised his head slightly and squinted at Harry. Harry didn't need to ask what Malfoy meant, but he considered the question's tone, which was neither unfriendly nor cool, before answering the truth.

"Yeah," he said again.

"So," Malfoy said after a little while more, the coolness back in his voice. "You're going to parade me down there and show all your little friends the teary Slytherin, now?"

"If I was going to break my promise, Malfoy, I would have just brought them up with me. I actually have a little more respect than that." Malfoy didn't speak. Harry hesitated then took something out of his pocket. "Here, put this on and we'll both avoid some questions," he said, and handed Malfoy his prized Invisibility Cloak. Malfoy narrowed his eyes briefly at where Harry's hand was clutching the cloak before taking it, looking in Harry's face, and putting it on.

"Right, now if you want to help, just take it off during some commotion and hand it to me or something. Otherwise, I'm going up to that cave to get it tonight," he warned, walking back to the door.

"You don't trust me," Malfoy's voice stated from behind Harry.

"Right back at you, Malfoy," said Harry, and he turned to the stairs.

Not once did he glimpse Malfoy that day, but he was not surprised. Once or twice he thought he felt a tug on a sleeve, but he looked down to see a house elf's ear waggling around his elbow and he shook his head and continued repairing the stairs.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

A/N: THANK YOU so much for the wonderful reviews! I really am updating as fast as I can, what with writer's block and going out of town and everything else. But more reviews equals more updating, so please tell anyone to check out the story! Thanks everyone :)


	6. Chapter 6

See prologue for warnings and disclaimer.

**Moonlight and Shadows: Chapter 6**

Harry managed to secure the Head Boy dormitory in Gryffindor Tower to sleep that night, and he was quite relieved to be back within the stony walls of the castle once again. Ginny watched him take his belongings from the hotel room somewhat sadly, but Harry knew she understood.

Once outside, Harry said Kreacher's name and asked him to take his rucksack to his room. The elf gladly took off, and Harry set out to find Malfoy's cave again. It felt odd not to walk with his cloak for protection, but he wasn't bothered. He hurried up the hill toward the tiny light in the face of the mountain, standing right in the mouth of the cave when he reached it.

Malfoy had his back to Harry, but Harry knew that Malfoy knew he was there all the same. Harry walked a few steps into the cave, and saw that Malfoy had the Invisibility Cloak in his hands and was examining it.

"What made Dumbledore think you were so worthy of this, Potter?" he said finally.

"It was mine before Dumbledore gave it to me. It's been in my family for centuries," Harry answered truthfully. Malfoy was quiet a while longer. Then he turned around.

"And why would something so flawless be in _your_ family?" he asked. Harry sighed.

"Just give it here, Malfoy."

"What if I don't?" Harry had a suspicion that it might come to this all along, but that didn't make him any happier about it.

"If you don't, then it makes me even more worthy of it."

"Oh," Malfoy scowled. "I thought we might duel for it." Harry sighed again.

"That's not the way it works, Malfoy. The cloak knows you're not its true owner, it won't always work properly for you."

"Perhaps if I killed you, then?" he said and stood up. Harry was losing his patience quickly. He'd had too many death threats in his life to count. It didn't seem to matter to anyone that he wasn't scared of death. He didn't actually know whether he was still immune to the Killing Curse, but he wasn't particularly ready to test it out, either. And coming from Malfoy, the mere threat was laughable.

"You aren't any more capable of killing me than Ron is of turning brunette," he said coolly, amused. Malfoy's eyes narrowed.

Then, without another word, he handed Harry the cloak. Harry looked at it, then back to Malfoy's face, and took it.

"Thanks," he said quietly, a little resentfully. He hadn't expected Malfoy to give in so quickly. And, he had to admit to himself, he had gone over a week now without using his wand for anything more than little household spells. He was aching for some sort of battle.

Malfoy glared at the ground and barely opened his mouth to say hurriedly, "Don't be so stupid, Potter. You lent me the damn thing."

Coming from Malfoy, Harry took that to mean an incredibly grateful "thanks." It was like hearing Dudley say he didn't think Harry was a waste of space.

There was a fire again in the cave and Malfoy sat down on the rock he'd occupied the night before. Harry wasn't sure whether he was being dismissed from Malfoy's presence or not, or what he was supposed to do or say if he stayed. He stood foolishly for a minute before Malfoy spoke.

"You need to fix up the dungeons next, Potter." Harry was shocked.

"That sounds like an order, Malfoy." He merely stared back at Harry.

"It's about time someone did. Believe it or not, people won't want to follow you around all their lives once they find out that you're actually a supremely ridiculous arse of a leader. Then where will you be? I've been trying to tell you that you aren't special for years. So you'll only believe it once the rest of the world starts to tell you so?"

Harry gritted his teeth and glared at Malfoy. But as much as Harry wanted to hate Malfoy for what he was saying, he knew all of it was true. Hadn't he already told himself that he was tired of being looked up to, that he wished people would stop looking to him as a god, since he certainly wasn't one?

"No," Malfoy continued. "Of course you're too stuck up your pole to realize that you're just another man like the rest of us."

Harry thought about this. He could stand being called a "ridiculous arse of a leader" and Malfoy telling him he wasn't worthy of being looked up to... but could he really ignore all that he'd done, all that he'd lived through?

"Oh," Harry said menacingly, barely controlling his temper. "I realize I can never be compared to your glorious Lord Voldemort. You really think he's great even after he failed?"

Malfoy was livid, and Harry found he couldn't really blame him. He'd promised himself that he wasn't going to make any more comments about Voldemort to Malfoy. It made Malfoy particularly menacing, and he realized that part of Malfoy's past would be uncomfortable. But he couldn't help it, not when Malfoy was being unnecessarily mean to him... not _that_ mean, Harry supposed... but mean all the same. They'd always had to bite back, through all their years of throwing insults at each other. Fair was fair, that's how it had always been. And Malfoy had already showed that that wasn't about to change, even after the war...

"Anyway," Malfoy continued. Harry could tell he was trying to rise above the insult, but he could still hear Malfoy's voice trembling with anger. "If I'm going to be staying in this castle then the dungeons should be their best, and they should be a priority."

Harry shook his head at him.

"Unless you start helping, the dungeons are going to be the last place fixed up," he said. Then Malfoy's words sunk in. He seized the opportunity of a normal, civil conversation. "So you're staying then, to teach?" asked Harry in the most pleasant voice he could muster.

"What do you care, Potter? Anyway I don't know why I would, having to stay in the same building as you for at least another year." Harry disregarded this.

"But you are, anyway?"

"I don't know. And I don't even need to ask if you're staying or not– you'll probably be here 'til you die, just like Dumbledore, and probably preaching his words still then, too."

"Course I will. And what about you? Still going to follow in Snape's footsteps, even though he wasn't really the Death Eater you adored so much?"

"Obviously not. I would try not to get myself _killed_."

"Do you really still not understand, Malfoy? That there are so many worse options than getting killed?"

"Oh no, Potter, I get it. Seeing as one of those options is being split open in a dozen different places."

"That's still death! Even if it's more painful than _Avada Kedavra_, you could still die." Harry realized his words too late... he had really just admitted to Draco Malfoy that he could have killed him. Malfoy smirked.

"And everyone thought you could never kill anyone... little did they know that you might pick the most painful death for your enemies..."

"First of all, everyone _knows_ that _you_ could never kill anyone. Hell, Malfoy, I've never even seen you duel anyone! And also..." he paused, considering his words. "Also, you aren't my enemy. I don't know what you are. I suppose you're just an annoying little git." It was like telling Malfoy that he'd be the last to laugh if he saw him crying, but it was the truth. A real Death Eater who tried to kill him or his loved ones was an enemy. Not a wanna-be Death Eater who could barely raise a wand in his defense.

Malfoy narrowed his eyes. It was a backhanded compliment– Harry wasn't his enemy (or so he said... but real enemies would call themselves friends and then turn their backs on a person), but he definitely wasn't a friend... and he was insulting him, anyway.

"Anyway," said Harry, "I have my cloak, and I'm leaving. And if I see you tomorrow morning at breakfast, you can start on the dungeons with us. If I don't, you can either bugger off or help us with the seventh floor, and I'll decide about the dungeons later. As it is, you should probably give me some reason to do any favors for you, Malfoy, because I'm really not in the mood."

He looked at Malfoy, who was still glaring defiantly at him, and then he left. He might have actually gotten a one-up on Malfoy, even after his comment about not being enemies... it was the truth, he thought.. After all, everyone had a much different idea of "enemies" after the war.

And anyway, he almost felt as though he'd given Malfoy his own challenge. If Malfoy said "prove it," Harry had told Malfoy to give him a reason to do any favors for him, so if they both did their part, they were even. After all, Harry really had proved to Malfoy already that he wasn't going to laugh at him... what more could he do? He would have to show a crying Draco Malfoy to a crowd of people, while standing beside him and not laughing. Of course Harry _could_, because he was telling the truth that he wouldn't laugh. But the situation would never present itself.

So, he was left wondering what on earth Malfoy would try to do for Harry if he was so desperate for them to clean the dungeons.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO **Next Morning** OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Ron had already told Harry and Hermione that he was going to take the job of Hogwarts Disciplinary Manager, and Harry could tell that Hermione was extremely exxcited at the prospect of teaching, even if it delayed her career as a Healer. But Harry struggled with his own plans. Of course he would never be able to become an Auror if he didn't finish all of his schooling.

But even through the last week, Harry had learned something about himself: he was easily restless. Any lack of mystery in his life meant that Harry was apathetic, dull, and dispassionate. Malfoy had given him something to investigate, but if they were to be colleagues, Harry would be less willing to risk pissing Malfoy off. Harry knew, and he sensed that Malfoy knew too, that their conflict was childish at best. And although Harry enjoyed putting the energy he had into their fighting, neither of them would ever win.

Harry doubted winning had anything to do with fighting, but momentary triumph was enough.

He walked into the Great Hall, plagued as usual by fans, and was immediately greeted by Hermione's bushy hair and squealing.

"Harry! Harry!" she called as she ran up to hug him. "You'll never guess what McGonagall said!"

"Er... what?" he asked as enthusiastically as possible.

"She said she could tutor me in the Healing arts while I'm teaching and doing seventh year!"

"That's great, Hermione. If anyone could handle that, it's you," he said, glancing at Ron, who was standing at Hermione's side and smirking at Harry.

"Thanks, Harry. Anyway, I honestly think it'll be great for McGonagall, too, so I'm excited. See, when I heard her and Madame Pomfrey yesterday, I realized that McGonagall must have been a Healer at one point, or at least have had some background in Healing, so I asked her about it. And at first she was a little touchy about it, but then I told her I was interested, and I asked her if she might like to teach me some things this year, so that maybe when I graduate I can go straight to an advanced level of Healer training. And she actually got very enthusiastic and she told me she'd love to teach me everything about it! I only hope that Madame Pomfrey doesn't get mad, because it seems like she thinks she's better than McGonagall... but I wanted McGonagall because she's getting on a bit, you know, and I could tell she was passionate about it, and she should get to relive that, right? Anyway I'm so excited, and now that that's settled, I'll definitely be staying here for this coming year, but–"

"Hermione!" said Ron suddenly. "Breathe!" He was staring at her as though scared she might faint, for she had scarcely taken a breath in her entire monologue. But he rolled his eyes at Harry. "What about you, mate? Think you'll stay? I think you'd be mad not to, there isn't much going for you if you don't finish seventh year..."

"Not sure yet," Harry said uncertainly. "I mean, you're right, I don't have much choice..."

"But then again," Ron continued, "They're offering you Minister of Magic, right? So you'd be set for life there, and everyone would be at your beckon call, and they'd listen to you..."

Draco Malfoy had just walked past the trio in the entrance hall, and Harry could tell he'd heard every word Ron had said. Ron hadn't noticed him, but Hermione looked like she was trying to decide whether or not to glare at him. He walked by the three slowly, obviously waiting for Harry's answer. Harry actually swallowed quickly.

"No..." he said, one eye still on Malfoy.

"No?! You're mad, mate... Minister of Magic?"

"No..." Harry said again, then looked at Ron. "No, I'd be a terrible leader, it'd only last so long, then everyone would realize..." he trailed off and looked back at Malfoy.

He looked at Harry with a smirk, and Harry could trace the lines of triumph on his face as well. Well, Harry wasn't going to argue with him– the boy had a point, he'd be a terrible leader after a while. He was reminded of Dumbledore, and how he'd said that he had realized he couldn't be trusted with power. But this didn't have to do with power, only the responsibility of decision-making, which Harry knew he didn't have enough experience with politically.

He narrowed his eyes again at Malfoy's retreating back and turned back to Ron.

"Kingsley's perfect for it, really. And I'm kidding myself if I think there's really anything else out there for me... there isn't, not until I finish seventh year. So..." he sighed. "So, yeah, I'm staying."

Ron and Hermione smiled joyfully and excitedly. Harry relished his decision to stay within the castle walls which felt so much like home for at least another year.

Breakfast was underway and Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat down to participate. Harry looked around once more for Malfoy, but he couldn't be spotted amongst the many people and families in the Great Hall.

"Harry, you've got to tell McGonagall as soon as possible that you're going to stay. She seemed desperate to know what your answer was, and she didn't believe that we didn't know," said Hermione. Harry finished breakfast and agreed to find her before they started work on the next part of the castle. Harry still was not sure between the seventh floor and the dungeons, and although Ron and Hermione were perplexed as to why Harry would want to fix up the dungeons so soon, they agreed to wait until he got back to start work on anything.

Harry turned the corner into the corridor outside of the Great Hall and abruptly came to a halt flat against the wall. Malfoy was talking to Professor McGonagall some distance away from Harry, but he could hear them if he strained. He happened to be behind a suit of armor, so he was out of sight from the two.

"...Glad to hear it, Mr. Malfoy. You will be Head of Slytherin House, then?"

"Yes, Professor, gladly," said Malfoy, and Harry could hear the delight in his voice.

"Excellent. Now then have you seen Mr. Potter?"

"Potter? Why would I care about seeing Potter?"

"I was merely asking if you _had_ seen him, Mr. Malfoy, not whether you cared. And if the two of you are going to be on Hogwarts staff, I will require that you are both most courteous to one another. I am able to take away privileges from the staff as well as the students, and if it must come to that, I will certainly use that ability. I am sure neither one of you would want to sacrifice your positions for an old, childish grudge... am I correct, Mr. Malfoy?"

Before McGonagall had even finished her sentence, Harry took the opportunity to come out of his hiding place. Her back was to him, and he knew that Malfoy had spotted him immediately, being able to see easily over her shoulder. Harry was able to discern as Malfoy's eyes widened slightly, knowing Harry had heard their conversation, and then narrow as Malfoy developed a plan.

He had muttered a "yes, Professor," but in registering that Harry was there, he looked past McGonagall, attempted a wave, and said, "Hello, Harry!"

Harry was so surprised that he had to make a conscious effort not to stop dead in his tracks. He had been about to tell Professor McGonagall that no "childish grudge" would get in the way of his work, but it seemed that Malfoy had a plan, and Harry could think of nothing but to play along.

Of course, Malfoy's voice was comically strained, and he made it clear as Veritaserum to Harry that this was _not_ a permanent arrangement, but merely designed for McGonagall's ears at the time. But all the same, Harry could not help feeling that there was a little mischief in this, and moreover, he was actually participating in it _with_ Draco Malfoy.

Harry cleared his throat.

"Oh, hello Draco. I was just going to talk to Professor McGonagall about this coming year. You've accepted, then?" He was approaching the two of them, and smiled at Professor McGonagall, hoping to convey that he and Draco were on friendly terms.

"Yes, of course," Malfoy replied. Harry had caught up with them, and the boys both looked at Professor McGonagall. She looked puzzled, but Harry could have sworn that she'd seen right through their plan. She would never buy it...

"You see, Professor," Malfoy continued, "I believe you're right about our 'old, childish grudge'... there's no point in it. And Harry and I agreed that we simply aren't enemies anymore." He looked pointedly at Harry, and Harry could not believe his ears. So Malfoy was agreeing with him? Or was he just saying that for McGonagall? The tone of his voice implied some sucking up, but Harry had to remember that Malfoy was simply like that around teachers. Either way, he had said it, and Harry treated the statement with the respect it deserved as if it were the truth.

"Well," McGonagall said finally, after studying the two of them. "If you two have reached an agreement, I applaud you. You are quite right to come to the decision that after hard times like this past year, your real enemies will do much more than call you names. And I can assure you that if you aren't, at the very least, civil to one another, there will be consequences regarding your education and staff status here."

Harry and Malfoy both nodded. She turned to Harry.

"I suppose this means you are accepting the job, Mr. Potter?"

"Yes, Professor," he said.

"And will you also accept the position of Head of Gryffindor House?"

"Yes, Professor, thank you," Harry said happily. He glanced at Malfoy, whose expression said that he wished it weren't true, but that it was inevitable.

"Now," she addressed both of them. "You are part of the staff, so you will address the other staff members by first names. However, I will be overseeing your education, so you will continue to address me as 'Headmistress' or 'Professor.' Understood?"

They both nodded.

"Right then," she said. She scrutinized them again as if to see whether they would break out in a fight after she left. "I will be speaking to you later about staff rules, schedules, and other responsibilities." They nodded. "I will be in the Hospital Wing today, but Mr. Potter, good luck with... er... where is it you're cleaning today?"

Harry was caught off guard; he had not yet decided. But in getting slightly flustered, he managed to get Malfoy's gray eyes, which seemed to scream one word: _favour... favour..._

"The dungeons," he said.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Malfoy agreed to help with the dungeons for a while, and went down while Harry got Ron and Hermione. The dungeons were worse than Harry had expected. The footsteps of the giants had made most of the stone ceiling fall into the corridors, and it was harder to repair a ceiling than a floor or wall, which everyone quickly discovered. At first, Harry saw that Malfoy had taken it upon himself to supervise everyone's work. After only a half an hour of this, however, his behaviour started to affect the house elves as well as the flustered and defiant wizards, and Harry put a stop to it.

The dungeons took the whole day to fix, but looked even better than before the war. They'd managed to magically wash the stone as well as mend it and protect it, so now they didn't even seem as dark and foreboding. _A false illusion to the poor first years once Malfoy starts teaching... _mused Harry.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

A/N: I'm so happy! I'm on Chapter 6 and I already have Chapter 7 written! I'd love a few more reviews before I update, though :) Because all of your reviews are so lovely! Seriously, though, thank you all so much...

Ah hell... I might just update anyway. Chapter 7 is pretty good... but maybe like... FOUR more reviews? to make it a round 20? PLEASE?!?! puppy dog face... hehe. That's not really too much to ask, I KNOW there are a lot more of you reading than are reviewing (but thanks to those who do R&R, you're extremely kind :). So everyone review!


	7. Chapter 7

See prologue for warnings and disclaimer...

**Moonlight and Shadows: Chapter 7**

For the next few weeks, Harry and anyone else who stuck around Hogwarts (the crowd was dwindling) continued to clean various parts of the castle, with the help of the house elves. He and Ron, Hermione, Neville, and Malfoy had all agreed to stay and teach, and they gradually moved in to their new quarters by their respective classrooms. Harry was aware that Ron was staying with Hermione (he covered this with, "Urgh, you should see where Filch used to sleep– he and Kreacher probably went to the same interior decorator..."), but this didn't bother him in the slightest.

Once or twice he saw Ginny giving him sad, resigned looks, and he empathized. He really had wanted to make their relationship work as much as she had. But that was before he realized she was like his sister, like Hermione, and she could never be a lover to him.

When he did have the time to think about liking someone new, he was always disappointed with what his imagination procured for him... All he could see was a gaggle of wide-eyed, excited girls... nameless, faceless, and utterly boring. These were the girls that waited to attack him every time he left the castle, and he never paid any attention to them... they were just desperate, flighty damsels... he told himself they were only after his money and his fame, but he knew in the back of his mind that none of them would ever be good enough for him...

And once or twice his mind bought forth the elusive sliver of blonde. When this happened, Harry shook his head, reminding himself that he didn't like blondes at all... _But then_, his mind reasoned, _it isn't really blonde... in fact, it's not even really a color... more like light, like... moonlight-ish..._ But then he had to shake his head again, because, of course, hair can't be moonlight.

Teaching was occupying most of his brain, however, so he had little energy to dwell on anything else. McGonagall had handed them all suggested syllabi, and told them they could deviate from it if they wished, but she advised them all to use the syllabus as a guideline for the core of their curriculum, since they were all new at teaching and could use all the help they could get. Harry could not help but to agree, as he looked at the complicated rubrics to be used for each term in each level.

To make it easiest on themselves, they'd all chosen to assign the same books they'd been assigned in their subjects, rather than having to read and research other books. Hermione had already completed her course syllabi for each year in each term, and managed to make more in case they had to deviate from they original study plan. Harry, however, was struggling to even read the textbooks he'd assigned, let alone to create lesson plans for the entire year. Ron was thoroughly enjoying teasing him about this, since of course the role of Hogwarts' Disciplinary Manager didn't require any reading.

"But it does, Ron!" Hermione said, alarmed, when Ron mentioned this at breakfast one day. "You probably have just as much reading as the two of us, actually!"

"What?" said Ron, his eyes wide.

"Ron, you've got to read all of Hogwarts' rule books and guidelines about punishments! You have to know exactly what you're looking for in rule-breaking and how you'll handle each student's behavior! This is a bigger job than just being a Prefect, Ron. You don't want to get off on the wrong foot and end up being punished yourself. In fact, as an extra precaution, you would probably want to read some of the history of punishments and rule breaking... Read about some of the cases where there were punishments gone-wrong, and then you'll see how you just can't mess up a job like this... Think of all the parents who are putting their trust in all of us to keep their kids safe! Think of–"

"Alright, alright, Hermione!" Ron yelled crossly. He looked quite downhearted for the rest of the day. He seemed to take Hermione's advice, however, because a week later he came up to Harry panting, having run all the way to Harry's room. Harry was about to go to bed, but he let Ron in anyway.

"Harry, you'll never... guess..." he panted. "These kids... they got into the... Forbidden Forest, and they were caught, and... they were actually hung by their wrists for a day! And Harry..." his eyes were wide. "Harry... that sort of shit is _still legal_!"

"Yeah, Ron, I know... remember Umbridge? She was going to have Filch do that to Fred and George when they were leaving. But this isn't really a surprise... the Carrows did it all of last year, you saw Neville and the rest of them. So how's this different?

Ron thought for a second, eyes narrowed. "Yeah, I guess..." he said. "I guess it isn't really different, I just passed it off then because those were evil people, so I didn't even count it as punishment... But it's _still legal_, Harry!" he reiterated.

"Yeah, so?" said Harry, perplexed that Ron would take such offense to this. "It's not like you would do any of that, so it's ok, right?" he patted Ron's arm tiredly.

"I know, but it's just... it's legal for anyone! I mean, I wouldn't do it... but anyone in a position of authority can do it! Even Prefects, for Merlin's sake!"

"Ron, calm down. Just... I don't know... change the rule or something."

Ron looked at Harry for a moment longer as though it was a lost cause, and then his eyes lit up.

"Harry!" he said suddenly, very loudly. Harry startled, surprised but amused. "Harry, that's it! I can do that now! I could probably go to McGonagall right now and have her change the rule!"

"Well... wait a few minutes, Ron, it's still one o'clock..."

"Do you think she'd listen to me, Harry?"

"Well, yeah, if you catch her when she's awake... I mean, right now she'd probably blast you out of he castle... but in the morning, sure, Ron..."

Ron didn't catch any of Harry's little jabs, he just stared into the corner of Harry's room, dazed. Harry thumped his shoulder again, hoping to wake him, and Ron turned to Harry finally.

"Right, well... g'night, Harry..." he said, still only vaguely registering Harry.

He left and Harry shook his head, amused but glad Ron was so worked up about something.

Harry could hardly believe it when there was less than a week left until the start of term. At this point, he had to decide to simply improvise on his lessons, since he had no hope for creating any class guidelines for himself. But seeing as all he ever did was improvise in his D.A. meetings, he figured the plan wasn't so bad.

All he had to do was to rack his brains about what he learned in first through third years, because all he could remember now were things he learned for the Triwizard Tournament and then the D.A. _Expelliarmus_ was a good place to start in all of his classes, since he had a story to go along with it, and it was dead useful.

Actually, he could start out just telling stories in all of his classes... that's probably all they wanted to hear, anyway...

No, he couldn't do that. That's what got him such a poor education in Defense Against the Dark Arts in the first place... Hell, he really would just have to wing it.

Three days before students were expected to arrive, Harry was starting to get nervous. He equated it to being in charge of the whole D.A., but on a horrendously larger scale.

Professor McGonagall found him that day as he was on his way to the dungeons, to make a request of him.

"Mr. Potter, I have been spending the last few days arranging the way the new staff's duties will continue the old ones." When he looked puzzled, she continued, "For instance, I used to greet the first years for sorting, but as Headmistress I will be staying in the castle and attending to the rest of the students. I have selected Mr. Weasley to receive the first years this year."

"Oh," said Harry, unsure of how he fit into all of this, "ok."

"I will be doing the normal, bland speech about rules and rule-breaking... and," she added with a twinkle in her eye, "the new rule Mr. Weasley and I have wisely agreed upon."

Harry smiled, glad that Ron had talked to Professor McGonagall and been able to get his wish.

"However, Professor Dumbledore usually had his few choice words of welcome for all of the students, and I think it pertinent especially for this new year." She could see that Harry was anticipating what she would say to him. "You, Mr. Potter, are a very important part of our staff this year, and I would be honored to have you present the welcome speech this year." She looked expectantly at him.

"I... sure," said Harry, flattered by this. "Yeah, I'd love to."

"Thank you. I'm sure everyone will be extremely pleased." She paused to smile at him, and then continued past him.

Harry went down to the dungeons, where he was sure Malfoy would be in his room. They hadn't talked since their joint discussion with Professor McGonagall, they'd barely even looked at each other. When they had, it was to return the same challenging stare, and occasionally Malfoy would smirk and raise one eyebrow. This would always make Harry try to scowl even more challengingly, and he supposed that the whole situation was better than the two of them glaring at every opportunity.

He knocked three times at the door he'd gone to for Snape's occlumency lessons, feeling very odd about it. He had no deja vu– only a wonderment that he never expected this room to be occupied by anyone but Snape.

Malfoy wasn't answering, so Harry knocked again. He wondered vaguely whether Malfoy was able to see outside his door somehow and was not answering simply because it was Harry. He raised his hand to knock again when he heard footsteps rounding the corner at the end of the corridor. Malfoy came into view, and stopped when he saw Harry. Harry turned to face him, and Malfoy came farther forward.

"And what did you want?" he said.

"I want your dumb mouth shut," and before Malfoy could reply, "There's one place we forgot to fix up in the castle, and I thought you could come and help."

"You still really think I have nothing better to do than to help your sorry–"

"It's the Room of Requirement, Malfoy," Harry interrupted, and Malfoy was silent. Harry's heart was beating rather fast... he hadn't really forgotten about the room, but he was putting it off and fearing the worst about it. But he'd decided that he had to know what had happened to it, and he'd also decided that Malfoy was the person to go with him. Not knowing how Malfoy would take this was killing him. Malfoy's face was impassive and Harry halfway thought he might hit him.

Malfoy was staring at the floor and not moving his mouth at all, but Harry was just barely able to make out the quiet "yeah" that came out. Harry was relieved, and resolved to make this go as quickly as possible.

"Good. Then let's go." He walked on down the corridor past Malfoy.

"Now?" came Malfoy's voice. Harry turned around, annoyed.

"Oh, I forgot... you have something _better_ to do."

Malfoy scowled and followed Harry. They had to go through the entire castle– from the dungeons to the seventh floor– and Harry was sure they'd meet someone they knew. He wasn't sure how he'd handle this if it happened, and was considering having Malfoy put on his Invisibility Cloak. That would be cruel, however, so the only thing to do was to act like everything was normal. If they met anyone–

"Ashamed to be with me, Potter?" Malfoy must have seen him glancing around.

"Only as ashamed as you are to be with me, Malfoy." Malfoy laughed.

"Oh, well... you must not be ashamed at all, then. _I_ am simply honored and delighted to be graced with your presence... who wouldn't be, when walking alongside the Chosen One?" His words dripped with dry sarcasm.

"Shove off Malfoy, you didn't _have_ to come with me. If I wasn't–"

"Ah, boys!" came a voice from behind them in the hallway. It was Professor McGonagall. They turned so she could catch up with them. "You're just the pair I wanted to see," she said. Harry noted Malfoy's displeasure a her use of the phrase "the pair." They greeted her and she looked between the two of them. Harry thought it looked like she wanted to say something, but she must have decided against it, for she continued with her reason for stopping them.

"I have just spoken to Miss Granger, Mr. Longbottom, and Mr. Weasley. I didn't realize until just now that of course, you would all be wanted and needing to go to Diagon Alley." Harry and Draco looked at her, puzzled. "For clothes," she elaborated. "And whatever else you might need. With only three days left until term begins, I thought it would be wisest for you all to take this opportunity to go."

"What... now?" said Malfoy.

"Why, yes, Mr. Malfoy, unless you have anything better to do?" answered Professor McGonagall. Harry could barely contain any laughter, and Malfoy must have known it, because he scowled at Harry.

"No... I can... do it tonight..." he said.

"Good. Then the other three are waiting in the Great Hall; you may all walk down to Hogsmeade and apparate from there. I'm trusting you without any supervision, as _adults_, and I expect you all back for dinner." She nodded at them, signaling that they were to leave, and walked off. Malfoy frowned.

"Ah well..." said Harry. "It's always better at night anyway..."

"What is?"

"You know... wandering around the castle looking for the Room of Requirement..."

Malfoy raised his eyebrows but didn't say anything, and Harry knew he probably felt the same way. They met the others in the Great Hall, all of whom narrowed their eyes at Malfoy. He glared right back at them, and Harry rolled his eyes.

"Look, guys..." he started. All four of them looked at him with a silent dare to defend Malfoy, and Harry almost faltered. But this was stupid– Malfoy was an annoying git. But he wasn't a Death Eater. _He's not an enemy_, thought Harry, and he knew that was the bottom line. "Malfoy's still here. He's still at Hogwarts, and he's not in Azkaban. And that says something, doesn't it?" No one responded. _They know it's true, of course_... Finally they all just turned and headed out of the Hall down the road to Hogsmeade. Malfoy was behind Harry, and he knew he was going to trip him... any second now...

"Oomph," he said, hitting the ground. Malfoy laughed.

"Too bad your balance isn't as nice as your words, Potter..." he said, striding by Harry carelessly. Everyone else was ahead of them, and they had noticed nothing. Harry got up quickly.

"You know, Malfoy?" he called and started walking behind him. "I think you're getting to be the predicable one."

"Oh yeah? Knew I was going to do that, then? Why didn't you stop me?"

"If I'd stopped you, you'd never have gotten the satisfaction and I would have never gotten that compliment," he said, catching up. Malfoy just squinted and shook his head.

They were all silent getting down to Hogsmeade, and they turned on the spot and apparated to the Leaky Cauldron immediately. Harry couldn't help but remember the last time they'd done that... and Hermione was Bellatrix Lestrange... he caught her eye and knew she was thinking the same thing. Tom, the barman, was definitely more enthusiastic about seeing the real trio, however. But before he could bestow too much praise on them (Harry was wary of Malfoy's reaction to the attention), they made their way to the brick wall and knocked on it for their entrance.

Harry was amazed at the change in Diagon Alley. It was almost how he remembered it the first time he'd ever set foot there, with Hagrid– colorful, cheerful, and spirited. He beamed at Florean Fortescue's newly reopened shop and Ollivander's. Harry wasn't paying attention, and almost didn't follow the others up the stone steps of Gringott's. Malfoy kicked him in the ankle, however, and he looked up at the building he had recently left on a dragon. He looked and Ron and Hermione, both of whom were also smiling up at the building.

None of them were certain of how their entrance into Gringott's would go over, since they really had neglected to return a treasure from a vault that wasn't theirs. But the two goblins guarding the doors (which had long since been repaired perfectly) beamed at them. They all sidled up to the counters, requesting their keys, except for Malfoy, who hung back. Harry looked back at him, and he shook his head. He quickly got his key and went over to Malfoy, crossing his arms.

"What, Potter?" he spat.

"You know what, Malfoy. Get your key."

"No."

"Why not?"

"It's none of your bloody business!"

"Fine, then I'll share with you."

"What makes you think–"

"Just do it! You can pay me back later, and you don't even have to tell me what the bloody hell is going on. Deal?" Harry walked off without waiting for an answer, to where the other three had watched this conversation held in stage-whispers. He knew Malfoy would follow, and he knew he would let Harry share some of his gold... and in the back of his mind, Harry also knew that one day Malfoy would tell him what was going on with him.

He got out at least twice as much gold as he really needed, but inconspicuously, and when they emerged from the underground, he surreptitiously gave Malfoy half of it.

"Just don't spend it in Knockturn Alley," he smirked. Malfoy glowered.

He realized a minute later that he hadn't even counted what he'd given him, but he surprised himself by not worrying about it. He could be set for life even with donating to charity, so he really couldn't care less.

"Wait a minute," said Hermione suddenly, when they got out of their cart. "Malfoy, we skipped your vault, why didn't you–"

"You really think I _need_ to go to a vault, Granger? My parents give me more money in a week than could be hidden in your hair," he answered, and walked off toward the doors. Harry scowled at his back. He couldn't help thinking that even Malfoy's insults were slipping a little bit, and the last part was simply a downright lie. They all walked after Malfoy and caught up with him, heading first to Madame Malkin's for robes and regular clothes. Ron, Hermione, and Neville all went right in, but Malfoy hung back. Harry knew why, and rolled his eyes.

"Yes, she'll remember you, Malfoy. But it's not like you're giving her your money anyway. Just don't talk this time," he said before Malfoy could say anything. Harry went in and Malfoy followed slowly. Sure enough, Madame Malkin's eyes widened when she saw Malfoy, and she looked like she might order him out, but her eyes landed on Harry, and she was extraordinarily compliant from then on.

In fact, the owners of every shop they went into were happy to serve all of them. Most even gave them a discount, and when they stopped in Fortescue's last, he gave them all free ice cream. Malfoy ate his moodily, but Harry was too fed up with him and too happy to be alive to be bothered.

Their last stop was in Ollivander's, where the wandmaker greeted them all like old friends, and beamed at them. He was looking healthier than when they had last seen him, Harry was glad to see.

"How is your wand, Mr. Potter? I thought sure you would have me make a new one?"

"No, I... I fixed it," Harry said, not wanting to mention the Elder Wand.

"Ah," said Ollivander, and Harry knew he'd deduced what wand he'd used. "And Mr. Malfoy? Your wand still in working order?" Malfoy merely nodded. _Of course_, thought Harry. _The last time he saw Ollivander was in his own cellar, probably being tortured..._

"So," Harry said, wishing to spare Malfoy any words. "You're well, then?"

"Oh yes, Mr. Potter. And always in debt to you and your friends," he nodded to Ron and Hermione. They left the shop shortly, and slowly made their way back to the Leaky Cauldron.

"Everyone done, then?" Hermione sighed, looking around the crowded street. They all nodded a bit.

"What, no trips to Knockturn Alley this time, Malfoy?" said Ron. Harry could sense that he had been dying to mention Knockturn Alley all day. Malfoy sneered.

"Not unless you want me to kick your arse down it, Weasley."

"Alright, alright," said Hermione quickly. "Let's just get back to the castle."

They apparated and started walking back to Hogwarts in silence, until Harry remembered something.

"Oh Merlin..." he said, and stopped walking. The others came around him.

"What'd you forget, Harry?" asked Neville.

"Teddy!" answered Harry loudly. "Teddy!"

"What's that, your stuffed bear?" Malfoy said, perplexed.

"I need to see him!" Harry disregarded Malfoy. "Merlin, I'd forgotten... that can't be good, can it? I've forgotten my own godson?"

"_Godson_?!" Malfoy choked. Harry ignored this as well.

"Harry, its fine," consoled Hermione. "You can't do anything right now anyway, it's a mother he needs right now... he's with Tonks' mom, she's caring for him perfectly, I'm sure. And anyway..." she paused, and sighed. "He's in better hands right now than you were when your parents died. Right, Harry?" Harry stared at her. "I'll bet McGonagall would let you go see him tomorrow, though."

"Yeah, just think, Harry," said Ron. "His hair will probably be a whole new colour tomorrow!" Harry couldn't help but laugh, and they continued up the road.

"Wow, Potter, what was that?" Malfoy jeered. "Motherly instincts coming through there?" Harry ignored him. "Who in their right mind would make you a godfather?!" he asked, still laughing.

"Drop it, Malfoy," said Harry, and Malfoy actually did.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

A/N: OH MY GAWD. You guys are fantastic! I am now writing furiously... and on that note... heh heh... just think what comes in the next chapter!!!

Thank you for loving this... oh, and I think that any typos on Chapters 6 and 7 were because I was on this REALLY crappy laptop. I did edit them, so if I'm persistently spelling something wrong, please tell me.

OH, and I just HAVE to tell you all this... last night I had this crazy dream where Voldemort actually came to my house! He was going to rape me and kill me, and I tried to get away in my car... but he suddenly could drive! And then I remembered in the dream that he flew, so suddenly he was just flying over my car. And THEN, I was back at my house and a few other people I knew were there. We all had rabbits, so we decided to take the rabbits for walks (Oo). WEIRD. And I think if I were a witch I would be Muggle-born, because my parents obviously were muggles. They thought Voldemort was actually a great guy. GAH!

Anyway, I just thought I should tell you that... i know it's VERY interesting... (not). ok ok ok! Now I'm writing Chapter 8!

Ok come on. THREE more reviews. To make it an even 30? PLEASE?!


	8. Chapter 8

See prologue for warnings and disclaimer.

**Moonlight and Shadows: Chapter 8**

The staff table was put back up on the platform that night, and the five made their way up to it, feeling more like teachers with every step. Professor Sprout was still in the Hospital Wing, so Neville took her place at the table, to the right of Professor McGonagall. Harry saw her hesitate a moment before sitting in her Headmistress' chair. Hermione sat on McGonagall's left. Malfoy was supposed to be sitting next to Hermione, but neither Ron, who was supposed to take Filch's place at the end of the table, nor Draco could abide by those rules. So Ron sat next to Hermione, then Harry, then Malfoy. He might have given a slightly disgusted look at having to sit by Harry, but that look was no match for his expression as Professor Trelawney sat down on his other side.

Harry watched as Malfoy's face went from horrified to extremely angry, and switched between the two, finally resting on a surprisingly deep red blush. Harry was floored. Malfoy was horrified, angry, and embarrassed all at the same time, because of Professor Trelawney? It reminded him of the time Malfoy was turned back to a human after being bounced around as a ferret for a while.

Professor Trelawney, however, hadn't said anything to Malfoy... so Harry reasoned that Malfoy's reaction to her had to be based on something that she'd said or done before? It was a guess. He looked around the Hall and deduced that no one else had seen Malfoy's glares at the tablecloth. And to Malfoy, neither had Harry.

"This isn't good," he caught from Hermione, and he leaned in front of Ron to see what was the matter. "We shouldn't all be sitting here like this, we should be mingling with the other teachers..."

"Hermione," Ron sighed. "We'll have all bloody year to– OW!" Professor McGonagall, walking behind his chair, heard him swear and smacked his ear. Everyone laughed, even Hermione and Professor McGonagall. Malfoy sniggered heartily.

"I do hope you don't take over _all_ aspects of Mr. Filch's position, Mr. Weasley," she said merrily. "Miss Granger, the staff as a whole does not expect you all to fit right in comfortably with the other teachers; in fact, we'd rather you were closer to the students."

Hermione rested more easily at that, and the rest of the meal passed in silence. Harry was able to look over the barely-filled tables in anticipation of the pupils he would have in three days. The Hall was extremely quiet. The few students who had stayed through the summer holidays were sitting there, some with their parents and families. All of the Weasleys remained, and Harry saw Mrs. Weasley looking up at Ron proudly a few times during dinner. It was too quiet. Ron was moodily playing with his food, and Harry knew they were thinking the same thing– if Fred were alive, he and George would let all hell break loose one of these moments... he instinctively looked at George, who was smirking at Percy.

And suddenly, Malfoy shrieked. Harry winced at the noise, which had nearly pierced Harry's left eardrum. He looked over at Malfoy's wide-eyed, choked expression, then gasped himself. Something extremely cold and ticklish was ascending his left leg. He looked again at George, who was not able to conceal a grin, and then around the Hall, which housed puzzled, alarmed expressions. A second later, Ron yelled "AGH!" to Harry's right.

Malfoy had stood up, but was bending over and feeling around both his pant legs. The small, frozen, tickling object was crawling up both Harry's legs as well. He imitated Malfoy and bent down to grasp whatever it was. But the moment he touched it, even through his pant leg, he withdrew his hand as though burned. A glance at Malfoy and Ron showed him that the same thing was happening to them. All along the staff table, the teachers were rising and yelling and hopping around, unable to touch whatever was bothering them. Everyone to Malfoy's left seemed to have been skipped, and Professor Trelawney was staring up at them all from her seat, utterly perplexed.

The faces in the Hall were amused, but still bewildered. As Harry's creatures slowly reached to well above his knees, he shared an alarmed glance with Malfoy, and they both sat down hastily. Ron did the same, then Hermione, and everyone else along the table, realizing that the objects would not stop climbing, and were sure to reach an uncomfortable height in everyone's pants. They could not stop squirming and occasionally gasping and yelling, however.

Laughing outright, George climbed up on the table he was sitting at and held up a wooden box.

"INVISIBLE ICE DEVILS!" he yelled triumphantly. "Creations of George and Percy Weasley! A bargain at 5 galleons per box. Watch the alarming progression of the frozen rodents, which will automatically climb up anyone's legs! BUT, because we love you all, they will save their victims from anything _very_ highly embarrassing."

Everyone in the Hall, including the female teachers, was rolling around in their seats laughing. But although they felt a reassuring warming sensation as the mice disappeared, the male teachers looked quite put off and defiant. Harry looked at Ron, who had his forehead in his hand and was muttering "Not funny... not funny...", and at Malfoy, who was staring at the ceiling with his arms folded, as if willing the situation to all have been a dream.

As Harry knew it would, Ron's head snapped up.

"_Percy_?!" he said, appalled.

Professor McGonagall had been chuckling, but she stood up. George was climbing down off the table, and as her voice rang sternly through the Hall, he froze.

"George Weasley!" she commanded. He and Percy looked up, uncertainly. Her look softened. "Be glad I can't punish you." They laughed as McGonagall sat back down, obviously not serious about their consequences.

"Ha!" Harry could hear Percy say. "I love this... I put in half the imagination, and you get all the blame!"

The Hall was a little less quiet after that, and many people were slapping George and Percy on the back and offering congratulations. It was obvious that most people were simply relieved that the Weasleys' fun and games were not all over, and that they had thought to break the silence. Malfoy's shriek was another source of amusement, but Harry tried not to snigger at the comments he heard. He marveled at just how easy it was to hear select conversations from the staff table. It was no wonder that Dumbledore had always looked pointedly at them when the trio was having a serious conversation... Harry doubted that even _Muffliato_ would work on the staff table. It must have been bewitched so that the teachers could have an idea of what was going on under their very noses. _Umbridge must have been thrilled_, Harry mused.

The dessert course was nearly over, and Harry saw Malfoy preparing to stand.

"Malfoy," he said quietly out of the corner of his mouth. "11 at Sir Cagogan." Malfoy's eyes narrowed at his goblet.

"Midnight, trophy room." he countered to Harry. Harry thought, then nodded once, and Malfoy immediately rose to leave. Many eyes were on him, but he seemed not to notice as he walked out. Ron turned to Harry with an excited giggle at once.

"Did you hear–" he started.

"Yeah, it was right in my ear," said Harry crossly.

"But wasn't it funny?

"Well... yeah. But don't go bringing it up, Ron."

"Why the hell not?"

"Because we're all teachers, Ron. It would be below our positions," answered Hermione, who had been listening. "Harry's right, it wouldn't be nice."

"Nice?! _Nice?!_" said Ron, aghast. "Since when–"

"Besides," continued Hermione. "I heard your little yelp when the things hit you!" Ron colored and started muttering. Harry half sighed in relief... he still didn't have any real reason to be nice to Malfoy, except to possibly be seen as trustworthy to him. And Ron wouldn't understand that at all.

Harry had four whole hours to kill until he would meet Malfoy. He settled on reading one of his many Quidditch books, disappointed that he wouldn't be participating in the sport for the second year in a row. _What's the use of being called the best young seeker in a century if I never actually play?!_ He might have settled for just being a Quidditch instructor (Madame Hooch had been killed in the Battle of Hogwarts) instead of the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. His mind wandered from his book to his day, from being interrupted on his way to the Room of Requirement to Malfoy's inability to get into his Gringott's vault, to his godson...

Godson! Harry remembered Teddy once again and his resolve to go visit him the next day. He looked at the clock; it was 9:25, so he supposed he could still send Tonks' mother an owl. But then, he needed permission from Professor McGonagall to actually go. Whose permission should he attain first? Then he remembered that he didn't have an owl. So, he could go to Ron's room (Hermione's room, really) and try to borrow Pig... or he could try to find McGonagall and just get permission from her first...

Harry was surprised that this simple dilemma caused him so much excitement. He had actually sat up straight to think properly, and he was attacking this as if it were a real issue. If he had needed to admit to himself that his brain needed exercise, he admitted it then. He had taken this opportunity to work out a problem so fiercely that he knew he always needed a mystery to solve. And he had to work on this one, lame and unimportant as it was.

_NO._ He wouldn't let himself think that. _This is family. This is what I've never had. This is important!_ Harry rose from his comfortable armchair and wrenched open his door. He almost laughed at how dramatic the gesture seemed.

He made his way down to the entrance to Hermione's room, hesitating before knocking. He hoped they were both decent and that none of them would have to explain away a compromising situation. Ron opened the door cheerfully and fully dressed, however. Of course they would have known that their visitor was Harry. The three agreed with Ginny when they all got their rooms that it would be wise to let each of them know passwords and secret passages, in case of any emergency. _Well... this isn't an emergency, but I'm not just letting myself in,_ reasoned Harry.

Hermione sat lazily on the couch in her living room, greeting Harry as Ron shut the door. Hermione's main room was larger than Harry's or Ron's, and they knew if they had any parties, they would have to hold them in her quarters.

"What is it, mate?" prompted Ron.

"Actually I just needed to borrow Pig, if that's ok," he said. But before he'd even finished, Hermione had gasped and leaped up to hug him. Harry glanced at Ron, who was beaming.

"What–" started Harry.

"Oh Harry," said Hermione. "We've been wanting you to ask that for a month!"

"Why?"

"Because, Harry, we got... Oh, just come here, you'll see!" She led Harry into her office area, where Ron opened a short cabinet and took out a cage.

In it was the second-most beautiful snowy owl Harry had ever seen. Harry could do nothing but stare at it.

"We would have given him to you earlier, mate, but Hermione's idea was that you could have him when you needed an owl. And you just haven't asked to borrow one for a month, so we just kept him..." Ron said.

"Him?" Harry managed to say.

"Yeah, it's a male. But snowy owl, just like Hedwig... reckon it's the last one in England..."

"Harry," Hermione interrupted. "We're sure that he's Hedwig's brother!"

"Hedw... really?" said Harry, finally taking the cage and holding it up to get a good look at the bird.

Hermione nodded and added, "And he doesn't have a name. We made sure not to call him anything so you could name him."

As he looked at what was sure to be Hedwig's brother, he couldn't help searching for any recognizable feature. Sure enough, he recognized the owl's amber eyes just like Hedwig's. He was reminded of recognizing another set of eyes, only they had been blue...

"His name is Aberforth," he declared a moment later.

"That's brilliant, Harry!" praised Hermione. Ron nodded. Harry looked over both of them.

"I... it's so... I'm glad you got her brother," he said. "He's really beautiful... thank you."

"'He's really beautiful'?" Ron quoted with a smirk. "Harry, if you weren't talking about a bird..." he laughed and Hermione rolled her eyes.

"You're welcome, Harry. Now you don't have to use Pig!"

"Hey!" said Ron.

"By the way," said Harry, interrupting this. "Are you interested in visiting Teddy with me tomorrow?"

"Oh," sighed Hermione. "I don't know, Harry, we just promised Neville we'd help him tidy up the greenhouses tomorrow. But if McGonagall doesn't let you go alone, we definitely will!"

"Sorry, mate," said Ron.

"S'ok, Maybe I should just go myself. Anyway, thanks, guys," he smiled.

He was extremely touched by their gift, and he was thrilled that they'd put the energy into seeing that he got Hedwig's brother. He checked his watch, the gift from Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. It was already after 10, and he made his way as best as he could with the owl cage toward the Headmaster's staircase. He'd just gotten in sight of the stone gargoyles at the base of it when Professor McGonagall's voice echoed behind him.

"Mr. Potter?" she said uncertainly. He turned.

"Professor McGonagall, I–"

"Is that your owl, Mr. Potter? But I thought she was dead!"

"This is her brother, Professor. I just got him. Gift from Ron and Hermione," he added.

"Ah."

"His name is Aberforth," Harry said proudly, unable to stop himself. Professor McGonagall gave him a long look of something between surprise and admiration.

"Suitable," she said. "Now, Mr. Potter, you were looking for me?"

"Yes, I was wondering if I might have permission to visit Ted– er, my godson? That is, Remus and Tonks'–"

"Yes, I know who Teddy is. You wanted to do this tomorrow?"

"If possible. I had forgotten about him, you see, and I think I should visit him before the start of term..."

"I think that is entirely appropriate." Harry sighed with relief. "You will be going with someone?" she said, looking at Harry pointedly. Harry took this to mean that of course, he would not be allowed to leave the castle without a companion.

"Er... yes... yes, Professor."

"Good. You may dine with Andromeda tomorrow evening, then."

"Thank you, Professor."

"Certainly, Mr. Potter. Family must come first." He smiled back at her and made his way back to his quarters. He put Aberforth on his desk and promised to get him food and treats as soon as possible. He could no longer write a letter; it was 10:30 and the journey would take Aberforth hours.

Harry settled down with his Quidditch books again before remembering the Marauder's Map, and deciding to stare at it for a while. It was so empty now that Harry actually had to search for any dots at all. Every one of Hogwarts' nine floors (including the ground floor and dungeons) was completely deserted, as far as Harry could see. Teachers were in their offices and students were in their dormitories, but the corridors remained blank. Then Harry spotted three dots moving together on the seventh floor, just below the Gryffindor portrait hole. The minuscule dots proclaimed the students as Seamus Finnegan, Dean Thomas, and Ginny Weasley.

He watched them for a minute, wondering whether to investigate this or be concerned about it at all. They were only walking along the hallway, after all, and it wasn't even 11. He decided to simply check the map every so often, to find out where the three were going. After ten minutes, they were on the descending the stairs to the fourth floor, and Harry had no reason to suspect them. They'd already passed the Room of Requirement, which Harry was happy about. If they'd disappeared there, he might have reason to really wonder about what they were up to.

Half an hour later, they were in the kitchens, and Harry had decided to amble up to the trophy room on the third floor. He would be extremely early, but he had nothing else to do. He was moseying along the rows of gleaming bronze, silver, and gold cups and medals and statues and other awards when Malfoy spoke.

"Fancy a duel, Potter?" He leaned casually against the doorframe. Harry frowned at his map– he'd only checked it five minutes ago; now he saw that Ginny, Seamus, and Dean were all on the first floor– but his vision went blank as he realized. He'd offered to duel here in their first year, and he'd tipped off Filch that they would be there that night. Malfoy had finally followed up on his offer for an all-out duel. It was seven years overdue, and there was no way Harry would accept.

"No, I don't," he answered.

"Chicken?" sneered Malfoy.

"As if. You were, though, not to show up back then."

"I had better things to do."

"And now you have nothing better to do than to duel me? Look, Malfoy," he said, not waiting for the answer to his question. "If that's all you wanted to do, if you just wanted to duel me, then you can go back to your dungeons and forget it. I was serious about you going to the Room of Requirement, but if it isn't that important to you, fine. Leave now." Malfoy was silent for a moment, narrowing his eyes at Harry.

"I'm going to the Room," he answered.

"Ok. Good." Harry looked at the map again, just as Malfoy turned to walk out. He caught Malfoy in alarm, however, suddenly aware that Ginny, Dean, and Seamus would be walking past the door of the trophy room any second. Harry didn't know if he was actually anxious and worried about being seen, or if it was just habit that made him want to stay undiscovered.

Nevertheless, he had grabbed Malfoy's forearm, and too late had realized that it was his left. Malfoy had reacted with a strangled "gah!" and his right arm had swing forward, out of the doorway. He turned back to Harry and wrenched his arm from Harry's grip just as Harry let go in fright, and they heard a girl's voice asking if there was anything there. Malfoy glared at Harry, seething. Harry had no choice.

"Duel," he whispered.

Malfoy immediately yelled a Jelly-Legs Jinx at Harry. Harry barely wobbled a second before pointing his wand at his own legs. Ginny, Seamus, and Dean were already at the door.

"Finite," Harry muttered. Malfoy spun around and pointed his wand at the three students.

"Protego," Harry said almost lazily. He knew Malfoy wouldn't really curse any students. He would be risking his teaching position. He turned to glare at Harry again, but lowered his wand.

"What are you doing?!" exclaimed Ginny.

"Friendly duel, Weasley. What are _you_ doing?"

"Er..." she said, looking at Dean and Seamus nervously. Malfoy caught this and sneered. "No, no!" said Ginny, "that's not what I meant! I mean–"

"You aren't in trouble, Ginny. Don't worry. Going down to the kitchens isn't a crime yet," said Harry, withdrawing his shield. Dean and Seamus looked relieved, but Ginny's eyes narrowed.

"Harry Potter, you use that map when it's useful! Not just to spy on people!" She meant it as an order.

"I wasn't, really, I just..." Malfoy crossed his arms. "Well anyway," Harry continued. "Just go on up or... whatever you were doing..." Ginny was still scowling at him.

"And what about you? Going to continue your stupid little duel? It isn't going to help anything, it's only going to make things worse for you. You should be ashamed! You're teachers now!" she finished boldly, sounding like Hermione.

"Don't worry about it, Ginny. Trust me, we'll both be alive tomorrow. Just go back to the Tower." She frowned at him for a second longer, then nodded and retreated with the other two, who waved goodnight to Harry. It felt distinctly odd to be defending a battle with Malfoy... a _fictional_ battle with Malfoy... when for six years he had tried not to get caught dueling at all.

Malfoy had raised his wand again.

"Where were we?" Before Harry could react, Malfoy had hit Harry with a Stinging Hex. He watched Harry gasp with pain, raised an eyebrow, smirked, and walked out of the classroom. Harry clutched at where the jinx had hit him... it was his left forearm.

He caught up with Malfoy, who wasn't far off. They were walking slowly, so as to give Dean, Seamus, and Ginny a head start along the corridors. Harry was still rubbing his swollen wrist. He desperately cast the _Aguamenti_ Charm to get some relief from the spell. His robes were drenched from the stream of water coming from his wand, but his wrist felt the same. Malfoy chuckled.

"Pick your poison, Potter..." Harry disregarded this and decided to check his map again. The other three were already on the fifth floor, so Harry deemed it safe to speed up.

"What is that thing, anyway?" Malfoy indicated the parchment.

"Map," Harry said.

"Aw, does Potty still get lost?" Malfoy laughed. Harry rolled his eyes in annoyance.

"It shows the people in the castle," he explained reluctantly. He shouldn't divulge the map's secrets to Malfoy, who would steal the map at the very least.

"Fascinating," Malfoy said in a very bored voice. They said nothing until the sixth floor. Harry had just made sure Ginny, Dean, and Seamus were all in their dormitories, and Malfoy spoke.

"This room, Potter."

"Yeah?"

"You think there's something wrong with it now?"

"Dunno, do I?" answered Harry. Malfoy didn't look pleased with his answer, but Harry honestly had no idea what to expect. Finally, they reached the stretch of wall they usually paced in front of. They stood for a moment simply staring at it. Harry had no idea what to ask the room to become. He didn't dare investigate the cathedral full of hidden things; he had no idea what he might find.

"Well, genius Potter, you led us to the wall. Now what?"

"I think we should just ask for the room," he said, still staring at the wall.

"_That's_ imaginative," Malfoy retorted sarcastically. Harry ignored him and started to pace. _Please become the Room of Requirement, take any form, just become the room... become the room..._ He looked up. Malfoy crossed his arms and surveyed the wall, which was blank.

"You know, that stone might look like a doorknob... oh wait. Probably not, since Potter is too stupid to even ask for one."

"You do it then!" Harry had only tried once, but he'd asked the simplest thing of the room, and nothing had happened. Perhaps it was like a bogart, and it took no shape except the one requested of it?

"You have to ask it for something, Potter. That's why is the Room of _Requirement_."

"You do it then!" Harry said again impatiently. Malfoy shook his head and started pacing with his head down and his eyes closed. Harry tried not to look at the wall, bracing himself for the sight of it remaining a blank wall. But Malfoy stopped pacing, and he couldn't help looking up.

"HA!" Malfoy said triumphantly. The large wooden door was back in the wall, and Harry was relieved.

"What is it?" he asked.

"A room where we can investigate the damage." Harry thought this was hardly different than his request of the room, but he was too happy to see the door to let that bother him. Malfoy crossed to the door first, and opened it slowly.

The room inside was like an unused classroom– stony, mostly bare, and cold. Black soot coated the walls, ceiling, and floor heavily, and the remains of a few desks sat charred in a corner. _At least the room still works_, reasoned Harry. He touched the wall with a finger and it was instantly coated with black ash. He pointed his wand at the wall and muttered "_Tergeo_," however, and nothing happened. He repeated the spell. Turning towards the pile of desk remains, he tried the Vanishing Spell on them. Again, nothing happened.

"So," Harry concluded, "you can't do magic in here..."

"Well, not on the room." Before Harry could stop him, Malfoy had thrown the Jelly-Legs Jinx at Harry once again, and the effects were instantaneous. Harry wobbled around just as he had done before, and then set his legs right again. Malfoy looked triumphant.

"But you _can_ take the ash off with your fingers..." Harry hopelessly looked around for a sort of bucket and cloth, and to his amazement, one appeared on the opposite side of the room. He filled it with water from his wand, then took the soaked rag and ran it over the stone. The ash came off easily, and underneath it was the bleak grey of the normal walls. "So we could clean it like Muggles," Harry finished.

"Never," Malfoy said immediately.

"Well, if the Room doesn't work with any other requests unless it's clean... wait a moment... Kreacher?" The elf's ears bobbed in front of him immediately.

"Master Potter," he bowed breathlessly.

"Are you bored?" Harry asked. Malfoy snorted loudly. "I mean," Harry went on, "could you get a few friends and clean this room?"

"Certainly, Master Potter. Kreacher would be delighted," he beamed. "Is that all?"

"Who do you take orders from, exactly?" Malfoy asked suddenly.

"Professor McGonagall... and Master Potter," he said, and Harry detected the note of pride in the elf's voice, though his eyes widened at the sight of Malfoy.

"Anyway, Kreacher," Harry said before this got out of hand, "that's all. Thank you." The elf beamed again and bowed, then disappeared.

"I can't believe–"

"Shut up, Malfoy." Harry didn't need to hear about how he treated his elf. He'd become fond of Kreacher. "Let's go." They left the room, and once they were back in the corridor, Harry attempted small talk, though he didn't know why. He couldn't care less if Malfoy didn't talk to him at all. "Well..." he started. "That went better than expected. Now we don't have to worry about cleaning it tomorrow–"

"–Which is good, because you would have tried to make me do it, seeing as you'll be on the other side of the country."

"How'd you–" Harry started, incredulous.

"I listen, Potter. You have your stupid map. I have ears. And I wouldn't have cleaned for you anyway–"

"No kidding–"

"–Because it just so happens I'm going too."

"_What?!_" Harry exclaimed, stopping dead and accidentally slipping into the trick stair just below him. He flailed, and for a moment which seemed like an eternity, he thought Malfoy would just let him thrash about. But then Malfoy grabbed Harry's wrist. This wasn't very comforting, however, because it was Harry's left wrist, which was still swollen and throbbing. He gasped with pain and Malfoy smirked, but Harry was able to right himself and wrench his arm back, remembering why he lost his balance. "_What?!_" he said again.

"I'm going, too," said Malfoy again, resuming walking down the steps.

"Why?!" said Harry, following.

"You are so dense, Potter. Because I _can_. So be sure to mention it when you send Andromeda the letter asking if you can go." Harry was so shocked that he couldn't speak, which hadn't happened to him in a long time. He didn't believe Malfoy's excuse of going with him simply because he could, but something in him said that his reasons would be revealed later, along with everything else about Malfoy. Harry was losing track of everything he wanted to know about Malfoy.

They walked in silence for the rest of the way, and Harry left Malfoy wordlessly when they reached the second floor. Despite the many mysteries consuming his thoughts, he drifted to sleep easily with a last look at Aberforth.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

A/N: Sorry again for the delay... my brain has been ALL OVER the place. I got distracted with youtube, and then I got distracted with fanart, and then I got distracted with rereading the first 3 HP books, and in the middle of it all I had my first really minor car accident, which was a shocker.

But I'm back! haha. Thanks again for all the lovely reviews, you keep me going.

Don't expect all the chapters to be this long I was quite surprised when I finished!

Keep reviewing and I will keep updating! I would love 40 before Chapter 9... :) love you all!


	9. Chapter 9

See prologue for warnings and disclaimer.

**Moonlight and Shadows: Chapter 9**

The next morning Harry woke abruptly and went down to breakfast, but not without struggling over his letter to Mrs. Tonks. He was satisfied when it was done, however, and he attached it to Aberforth's leg, making sure the bird knew exactly where he was going. He gave a hoot and almost seemed to roll his eyes at Harry, however, and soared out through the open window.

_Dear Mrs. Tonks, please forgive me for not writing you before about Teddy. I hope both of you are well. I wanted to arrange a visit with both of you– today, if possible, since classes start again very soon. I'm anxious to see you and Teddy and keep in touch. I would be accompanied by Draco Malfoy. Please let me know if you are free for a visit today._

_Thanks,_

_Harry P._

Harry was feeling awkward about the whole ordeal for many reasons. Teddy may be his godson, but he'd never seen the baby before... in fact, he'd never really seen a baby before, period. He had no idea how to act, and somewhere in his mind, he feared dully that Teddy would mysteriously automatically hate Harry on sight. And then, he'd only seen Mrs. Tonks once in his life, and had barely spoken to her at all. She'd recently lost her husband and daughter, as well as a sister (no matter how much they had drifted apart, Bellatrix had still been family), and Harry knew this could make things awkward also. Finally, Malfoy would be with him, and that was a mystery all in itself, as well as a catastrophe waiting to happen.

Malfoy had known that he'd talked with Professor McGonagall, but how? Had he really been lurking in the corridor the whole time, or did he have some other means of spying on people?

The new teachers occupied the Staff Table again for breakfast, and the topic of Harry's visit to Teddy came up once again.

"I wish we could go; I'm not entirely thrilled about helping Neville clean the blasted greenhouses–"

"Ron..." said Hermione as a warning. "Harry should probably go alone anyway. He and Mrs. Tonks can have a nice little chat and he won't have to worry about anyone else ruining the moment when he's busy caring for Teddy. Right, Harry?"

Harry was a little bewildered at this, since it was not the situation he expected to encounter at all. But he nodded vaguely at Hermione and his friends fell silent. Luckily for Harry, both of them had assumed that he would be visiting Teddy alone, so he didn't even need to delve into that subject. Breakfast was over soon, and Harry got up anticipating another boring day until he could leave the castle. He was reading some of the books Lupin had given him once about self-defense around midday, when Aberforth returned.

Gladly, Harry got up to take the letter off of his leg, and paused to congratulate Aberforth on his first journey.

_Harry, I would love for you to come here around 4 and stay for dinner. You can meet Svala DeBlanc, Teddy's governess, and tell me if you approve. Bring Draco along if you must. I will expect you around 4; see you then!_

_Andromeda_

Harry was thrilled this had worked out, and he noted with some glee Andromeda's reaction to Malfoy. Then he realized that if she wasn't happy to see Malfoy, this could make matters even worse, and a bad mood immediately settled over Harry. If Malfoy ruined this... Harry might just never forgive him. They were dealing with a baby and a widow; Malfoy's cruelty couldn't possibly extend that far, could it? It would have a year ago... now, Harry wasn't so sure.

First thing was first, however– he had to tell Malfoy when they were leaving. He reluctantly left his comfortable room and Aberforth and headed to the dungeons, after confirming with the map that Malfoy was there. He knocked three times as he had the day before, but this time Malfoy opened it. He raised an eyebrow at Harry, looking completely unsurprised that Harry was there.

"What?" he demanded. Harry stared coolly at him.

"Mrs. Tonks says we're to be at her house at 4. So 3:30 in the Entrance Hall. We're eating dinner there and meeting the governess." Malfoy smirked at that.

"Fine, Potter. 3:30."

Harry nodded and left, having been dismissed from Malfoy's presence. The rest of the afternoon was spent with Ron, since Hermione left them huffily after pestering them to get ready for the school days. They flatly refused, getting out Ron's chess set and ignoring Hermione's protests.

"Harry, it's worse for you than Ron, you actually have classes! What are you going to do in two days when you actually have to teach? I don't suppose you've been planning at all for your classes, but if you'd asked me I could have helped you draw up lesson plans... As it is, I think it's too late to do any of that... And Ronald!" she yelled suddenly, make Ron jump and his ears turn red. "Have you gone over _all_ of the Hogwarts rule books? You simply can't afford to miss anything! I do know some of them, like in Volume Two, Chapter Seven, Number Two Forty-Eight, where it plainly states that the Forbidden Forest may not be used for punishment purposes, and Filch broke that rule loads of times, even with us in our very first year! But that's outrageous, you can't go breaking rules yourself when you're supposed to be the one catching others at breaking rules! And you can't simply lean on me to remember everything the rule books say!"

"Why not? You know them all by heart, someone should make use of that..."

"Ronald! It's your _job_! Do you want to lose it just because of a dumb mistake you made?"

"Hermione, if Filch broke the rules and didn't lose his job, then I can afford a couple dumb mistakes at first. Besides, I do know the rule books."

"Oh yeah? Like which rules?"

"Like in Volume Seven, Chapter One, Number Seven Hundred, where it says that talking too much is a punishable offense and a likely punishment is... is... completely ignoring the person!" he finished vaguely, and turned back to Exploding Snap with Harry.

"Fine," Hermione at last, and she stalked away.

"Honestly," Ron told Harry, "I think she gets worse every day, the poor first years might even think she's worse than McGonagall... Or maybe she's actually getting private lessons from McGonagall... Say, Harry, is she really letting you go visit Teddy alone?"

Harry had been dreading that.

"Er... no," he said. It was stupid to think Ron wouldn't ask–

"So then who's going with you?" he'd stopped playing, curious as to Harry's answer, but Harry continued, pretending to be very interested in the cards they were playing Exploding Snap with.

"Er... Malfoy."

"_Malfoy_?!" Ron blurted. "Why in the _hell_ is he going with you?!"

"I have no idea," said Harry truthfully, still playing with the cards.

"Listen, mate, I'll tell Neville I can't clean up the greenhouses with him, and I'll go with you and make sure–"

"No," Harry interrupted. "I can handle him, Ron, thanks."

"Are you off your tree?" exclaimed Ron. "This is _Malfoy_! McGonagall's actually allowing him to go with you?"

"Actually, she doesn't know," Harry said, looking up at Ron for the first time during this conversation. His expression was so confused, and surprised, and generally flabbergasted that Harry almost wanted to laugh. "It really isn't a big deal, Ron. I've dealt with him for seven years; I can deal with him for another afternoon." Ron seemed to think that was at least somewhat in order, because he shrugged and joined back in the game shortly.

"I still think you're off your tree, though..." The next moment, the tower of cards blew up and scorched his eyebrows, and Harry nearly fell over laughing so hard.

At 3:30, Ron and Hermione escorted Harry to the Entrance Hall, despite Harry's many protests.

"Don't be afraid to hex him if he puts a toe out of line. I'll let you off and I'm sure McGonagall will look over it."

"No, Ron, that's inappropriate. Just bring him back here immediately if he does anything stupid, Harry."

"Come on, Hermione, he deserves something actually being done about him!"

"That's immature and unwise. Harry will handle any situation very well."

"Don't be silly, Harry will hex him the first chance he gets, won't you, Harry?"

Harry had been trying to ignore this conversation, so when they both looked at him expectantly, he stalled.

"Er... right," he said awkwardly.

"No, Harry, you mustn't!"

"Aw, come on Hermione. Nothing really bad, just a little warning..." whined Ron. But they fell silent immediately, turning a corner and coming up to Malfoy.

"Speak of the devil," Ron muttered.

"What was that, Weasley? I couldn't hear you through your hair," Malfoy sneered. Actually, Harry noticed, Malfoy was right– Mrs. Weasley hadn't given Ron a haircut in at over a year, since his last was for Fleur's wedding. His hair now hung just below his chin, and sometimes covered his eyes. But of course, the comment was still rude (even thoughHarry couldn't help thinking again that Malfoy's insults were slipping).

Malfoy didn't wait for an answer.

"So what's this, Potter? You were so scared you brought _two_ seconds with you this time?" He sniggered as Hermione and Ron glared daggers at him. "Ah well, I don't blame you. Actually, you should have brought a few more, and then we'd have a fair fight."

Harry just rolled his eyes and shook his head, and turned to his friends.

"I'll see you when we get back, have fun with the greenhouses." He smiled, showing them he had nothing to worry about, and they turned back out of the Hall. Malfoy followed Harry to the door, and before he knew what he was doing, Harry had opened the door for Malfoy. He stood back and raised his eyebrows, too late realizing what he'd done.

"What is this Potter, some sort of joke?"

"Er..." he faltered for a second. "No, this is so you don't trip me from behind," he said pleasantly.

For a split second, Harry watched Malfoy's expression twitch in a smirk... but it wasn't really a smirk. If Harry didn't know any better, he might have said that Malfoy was wearing an amused smile. But then his face was impassive again, and he silently walked past Harry to the road leading to Hogsmeade.

Harry caught up with him and they walked in silence for a while, which Harry actually found quite comfortable. He supposed it was better than a constant flow of mini jabs and insults. Then Malfoy spoke.

"So you think we're going to be friends now, Potter? Just because I have no other... alliances?" Harry looked at him in surprise.

"This is the first I've heard that you don't have any other alliances, actually."

Malfoy seemed to think he had said too much. He shook off Harry's comment.

"Regardless, you think I'm just going to be your friend now? You expect me to fall on my knees in admiration like all the hussies who love you so much?"

"Well we did happen to agree, actually, that we aren't enemies..." he began. Malfoy snorted.

"An act, Potter, all an act."

"I wasn't acting!" Harry replied, a bit more defiantly than he'd intended.

"Oh? A bit surprising, since you got so used to acting the hero..." This didn't make any sense to Harry, but he pushed on.

"So you were acting, then?"

"Did I _say_ that, Potter?"

"I don't know what you said. You're not _my_ enemy, even if I'm yours. But I don't have any reason to call you a friend."

"_Really?_ Well–"

"Listen, don't cause any trouble tonight. I don't even know why you're coming along, but they don't need any trouble." Malfoy's eyes narrowed, but he didn't say anything. They'd reached Hogsmeade, and Harry sighed.

"Ok, I know where I'm going, so just... hold my arm or something."

"You mean I have to touch you?" Harry rolled his eyes with impatience.

"Haven't you _ever_ done Side-Along Apparition? You have to hold on." He stuck out his elbow and Malfoy looked at it before putting his thumb and forefinger around it. "Ok," he closed his eyes in concentration. "One... two..." He said _three_ and turned on the spot just as he felt Malfoy's other fingers close around his arm. Suddenly he felt the peculiar jerk around his navel as if he were using a Portkey... but he was Apparating... _Tonks' House_, he thought dully...

They landed with a thud, as Harry felt an extreme pain on his left wrist. He sunk to his knees as he gasped, thinking that Malfoy must have somehow put a Stinging Jinx on him again. He looked down and saw a jagged line of blood and a gash running halfway up his forearm, which didn't come with a Stinging Jinx. It looked like he'd only lost some layers of skin. Malfoy was looking down at him in confusion.

"Splinch yourself, Potter?" he asked, but the words carried very little, if any, cruelty.

"Guess so," Harry said as he bit his lip. He looked around him; they had made it to Mrs. Tonks' house, after all. Malfoy bent down, to Harry's surprise, and muttered _Tergeo_. The blood from Harry's clothes and the ground vanished, as well as most of it on his arm.

"Well I don't know how to heal cuts, so don't ask."

"It's fine," mumbled Harry, getting to his feet. They walked in silence to the front door, and Malfoy knocked.

"Hello, boys," Mrs. Tonks said as she opened the door. She beamed at Harry, then smiled uncertainly at Malfoy, who nodded, and then narrowed her eyes back at Harry, who said hello and smiled, but was clutching his arm. "What happened, Harry?" she asked in the no-nonsense kind of tone her daughter had used sometimes. She scowled at Malfoy.

"It wasn't his fault," Harry said quickly. "I just kind of... splinched myself."

"Oh, well that's alright then, come inside and I'll fix it." She stood aside to let them both in, and promptly healed Harry's cut. "You'll have a scar, I'm afraid, but that's alright. Feel better?"

"Yes, thank you, Mrs. Tonks," Harry said gratefully.

"Oh, it's Andromeda, please!" she laughed. Harry couldn't help wondering that she was very happy for someone who had recently lost 3 family members. She turned behind her and Harry just noticed the girl standing there. Andromeda waved her forward.

"This is Svala, she's Teddy's governess. She's very young, but I think you'll find she's quite capable. She used to do this sort of things for Muggles, but then she was called... er... what was it, dear?"

"Babysitter," Svala replied promptly. She looked quite shy when she was standing by Andromeda, but when she spoke Harry got the distinct impression that she was eager to prove herself.

"Yes, that..." said Andromeda, looking frightened at the very word. Harry smiled, though– he knew babysitting wasn't what it sounded like. "Anyway," she continued, "she's been doing a great job so far... So come in, come in... Teddy's in the other room. He might be sleeping, but don't be afraid to wake him. We'd rather he slept well tonight. Oh, and I believe he's having another orange day... his hair," she added to Harry and Draco's confused faces. "So, you're welcome to go in, just spend some time with him..." She pointed at the room he was in, and Harry proceeded, expecting Malfoy to follow.

"I was wondering if I could speak to you, actually," Malfoy said quietly to Andromeda behind Harry.

"Yes, of course... Svala, you go with Harry and look after them. Draco, through here..." She led him into the office and Harry scowled after them, wondering what on earth they had to talk about. Svala had walked past him and was holding open the door to Teddy's bedroom.

Awkwardly, Harry walked to the crib and was greeted by a smiling baby with not orange, but purple hair.

"Oh, it already changed!" laughed Svala, also looking down. Harry couldn't think of anything to say or do, so he settled for simply staring at the baby in wonder that a human could really be so tiny. When Teddy was bored with staring back at them, he started scowling, and Svala brought out her wand, making sparks fly over his crib. Teddy squealed at this, and every time Svala waved her wand.

"You can hold him, you know," she said finally.

"I don't... I don't know..." Harry stammered.

"It's ok. Here," she bent down and picked up the baby herself, then held him out to Harry. "Just put one arm under him, and then put your other hand on his neck. They have to have their necks supported." Harry, feeling more awkward by the second, held out one arm, which Svala sat Teddy on, then did as she said and cradled Teddy's head in the other. He was still holding him about a foot away from his body, and he watched as Teddy's scowl grew in confusion.

"I er... I don't think he likes me..." Harry stammered. Svala laughed.

"He hasn't started crying, though, that's a good sign!" But Harry's eyes widened as at that moment, Teddy's eyes squinted and his mouth opened in a tiny whine. Svala laughed again.

"It's ok, Harry. Just hold him a bit, and maybe bounce him up and down..." Harry brought Teddy against his chest, and then clumsily started bending his knees and straightening up in a jerky motion that was not likely to calm a baby. Indeed, Teddy whined again, louder this time, and Harry looked to his side to see a fat tear rolling down his cheek.

"I just don't..." he started again.

"It's ok, Harry, just bounce a little with him!" She demonstrated half hopping on the balls of her feet, and Harry tried to imitate her. To his surprise, he found a bit of a rhythm at last. Teddy, who had started wailing, was quieting down and just gasping a little for some short breaths. Harry's shoulder was wet with tears, but he didn't care– he was surprised to find that holding Teddy could turn out to be comfortable.

Svala was smiling at him with a kind of admiration and satisfaction, but was distracted by something over Harry's shoulder. Harry turned, still bouncing with Teddy, and saw Malfoy in the doorway. He was surprised– he'd almost forgotten Malfoy was in the house. He'd stopped mid-bounce, almost on tip-toes, and knew his position had really earned that smirk from the doorway.

"So he hasn't killed him yet?" Malfoy asked Svala.

"No, far from it! Turns out Teddy's really taken a liking to Harry!"

"Surprise, surprise!" said Malfoy sarcastically. Harry frowned.

"Ha, as if every baby you come across likes _you_, Malfoy."

"Oh, as a matter of fact, Potter... here, my turn," he stalked toward Harry, but Harry's arms squeezed around Teddy protectively and he turned away.

"Don't even touch him," he growled. Svala, who was watching this with wide eyes (obviously she had thought Harry and Draco were the best of friends), stepped forward.

"Harry, give him to me."

"You're going to give him to... Draco," he said hesitantly. They were again using first names just for show, but Harry thought it felt so very odd anyway.

"Well, yes, but it's ok because I trust him more." Harry was about to ask why in hell she trusted Malfoy, but thought better of it in the act of transferring Teddy to Svala. She bounced him for a bit.

"Harry... go talk to Andromeda," Malfoy said.

"_What_?! I would never leave you alone with him!"

"It's ok, Harry, I'll be here. Andromeda wants to talk to you," said Svala pleasantly. Harry couldn't believe it. It was like they were teaming up against him the whole time. He stumbled backwards, bewildered, to the door and glared again at them before stepping outside and shutting it.

"Well, Harry, how is he?" Andromeda said behind him, almost making Harry jump.

"Oh, he's... great... purple..." he muttered.

"Really? How surprising, I don't believe I've seen him in purple for a while." She smiled, but Harry noticed something... Her eyes were rimmed with red and her cheeks looked a bit damp, as if she'd been crying. She saw his face change to anger towards Malfoy and concern, however, and laughed him off.

"I'm fine, Harry, don't worry about it."

"Did he... I'll hex him..." Harry stammered. He seemed to have a speech impediment with anger.

"No, dear, don't worry about it. I'm very happy, actually... I'm happy I don't have to pretend that I don't have a nephew."

"A neph..." And then it hit him. Of course... Malfoy's mother was Andromeda's sister, so he was her nephew... Harry couldn't believe it. His brain seemed to work agonizingly slowly as he figured out ever piece of the puzzle. So Nymphadora was Malfoy's cousin... which meant... Malfoy was Teddy's second cousin?! He thought back to what Andromeda had said... she didn't have to pretend she doesn't have a nephew... which means she likes Malfoy? Malfoy must have been nice to her then...

Andromeda had calmly been watching Harry figure it all out and was surprised when he turned to her looking slightly panicked.

"Look, Malfoy can actually act really well, he might have been nice to you but it's easy for him to suck up to people."

"Harry, Harry..." she said, and Harry was immediately reminded of Dumbledore, and he knew what she was going to say. "I still don't know how much I trust him, but I know that it took Draco an immense amount of courage to say what he said to me. So for the time being, I am happy to give him the benefit of the doubt and let him prove himself."

"What... what did he say?" Harry asked tentatively, knowing the answer.

"I won't tell you that. It was for my ears."

"Yes, of course," muttered Harry. "Sorry." Maybe after _Draco_ died, Harry would receive all of his memories like he had Snape's, and it would all become clear...

"Quite all right. Almost time for dinner," she added, getting up and going into the kitchen. Harry helped monitor the oven, which was supposed to rattle when the food inside was cooked, but which was old and rattled at different times regardless. He was just talking to her about all the Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers he'd had, when Svala and Malfoy walked in, with Teddy in Svala's arms. Andromeda ushered them in and around the table, since dinner was imminent.

They each got a side of the square table, and Teddy's chair was placed next to Svala, who sat between Harry and Andromeda, across from Malfoy. The first part of dinner was very quiet, with only compliments on the food coming from Svala and Harry. The discussion turned slowly to Svala.

"So you're how old?" asked Harry, noticing that she looked quite young.

"Sixteen. Seventeen in November," she added. Harry seemed unsure of this fact, before remembering that Luna would be turning seventeen in November as well. Of course, he might not approve so much of Luna taking care of his godson... but Svala seemed pretty responsible.

"What school do you go to?" Malfoy asked then, eyes narrowed.

"I don't. Well... I have a private tutor. See, I'm muggle-born. I got the letter to attend Hogwarts, but my parents decided they distrusted me being around a lot of magical folk, so... they ended up just hiring a private tutor for me. I've kept up with Hogwarts' standards, and in order to get any credit for my education, I have to graduate from there. So I'll be graduating at the end of this year with all of you!"

Harry wondered just how this worked out, since she was too young to be with the other seventh years, before remembering that in normal circumstances, Ginny and Luna and the rest of the sixth years should be graduating this year as well.

"So how did you end up becoming a babysitter?" Harry asked next, and he saw Andromeda shudder at the word.

"Oh, I have six younger siblings, and I had to take care of all of them. My brother Sherman will be a first year this year at Hogwarts, but we know all of my other siblings are Muggles."

"So how is he attending Hogwarts?"

"Well, my parents were going to enroll me last year, but our tutor got a little desperate and begged us to keep him on... and now they're ever so glad they kept me out! But now they reckon it's safe, what with you teaching–" Malfoy huffed and scowled at his bowl of French onion soup"– and Voldemort gone." At this, Malfoy, who had been about to eat a spoonful of soup, dropped his spoon back down in his bowl and splattered himself a little. He cleaned it up hastily.

Harry couldn't help noticing that Malfoy had been looking at Svala as if sizing her up... and he wondered why on earth he might be interested in her. She was pretty, he supposed– blonde with honest blue eyes– but she was definitely not Malfoy's type. For one, she was Muggle-born, and Malfoy would never cope with that, he was sure. She didn't have a formal education, which Malfoy thought was despicable. _Besides_, Harry was surprised to find himself thinking, _their hair would clash..._

Dinner was over shortly, and they all occupied themselves with trying to keep Teddy awake, so he'd sleep more during the night, while cleaning up. Andromeda then deemed them ready to leave, and she kissed both Draco and Harry on their cheeks. They waved to Svala on their way out the door, after declaring that she would be a fine governess, and walked along the path through the garden to where they could Apparate.

Harry thought with all his might of Hogsmeade as he turned on the spot, so as not to splinch himself again. Malfoy arrived just behind him and they walked silently up the road to Hogwarts.

"At least now I know why you wanted to go," said Harry bluntly.

"Oh, you finally got that?"

"Well you could have reminded me. I might have been suspicious that you only wanted to go to hurt Teddy... or something."

"Potter, reminding you would be like telling the giant squid he lives in a lake. It's just _obvious_."

"Not really, especially since Andromeda's whole family got disowned by the Blacks ages ago." They were at the doors, and Malfoy turned to him.

"Well, I'm a Malfoy," he said coolly, then walked inside. Harry knew better than to push the subject, and he let Malfoy go, thinking his sentence was oddly out of place. What did him being a Malfoy have to do with anything? Did he think that made him different?! It meant he was just the same as the Blacks, for Merlin's sake! Harry rolled his eyes to himself and went inside also.

He found a note in his room from Ron, who told him he had to come tell him and Hermione what happened as soon as he got in. Harry almost laughed at their panic– it seemed so stupid now to be afraid of Malfoy. Ron and Hermione gladly let Harry in and stared at him expectantly.

"Nothing happened," he said simply. They raised their eyebrows in cue for him to continue. "We got there, and I went in with Svala–"

"Who's that?" Ron interrupted.

"Governess," Harry answered, and continued. "Anyway, I went in with her to be with Teddy, and Malfoy stayed to talk to Andromeda. Then I got out and," he paused, wondering how much to tell them. His quest regarding Malfoy's mysteries involved only him and Malfoy; Harry saw no reason to include Ron and Hermione... "And she was fine," he continued, and Ron and Hermione sighed in relief. "And then he went in with Teddy and I talked to Andromeda, just about little things. She seemed pretty happy, actually, so that was good... And then we ate, and left." There was a pause.

"That's it?" asked Ron, who was actually leaning forward to hear more details.

"Yep," Harry nodded.

"Oh," said Ron, who looked a little disappointed.

"Well... but that's good, then! Unless... unless he just wanted to go with you to find out where they lived, and he's going to go back and–"

"No," Harry cut Hermione off. "Honestly, there's nothing going on. It's all fine. So how were the greenhouses?" There was a pause again, as Ron and Hermione digested his change of subject. He didn't really pay attention as Ron complained about the humid heat in the greenhouses and the dirt and a plant that almost forced its way in his mouth... he was far too tired. He said goodnight as soon as possible and headed off to his room for bed. After he fed Aberforth, of course.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

I REALLY can't believe I'm already done with Chapter 9! Of course, it's taken a while... sorry about that. And I don't know when I'll be updating next because I'll be out of town for the next week. I hope to still be writing, but no promises for updating.

In the meantime, though, I'd love a scrumptious amount of reviews :) In fact, everyone who reads should review. You know who you are. The people who are giving me all the hits (er... on the story cough)... but who aren't leaving any words of guidance, praise, or... um... hate. I know that deep down you really really want to give me some feedback.

Who knows, I might even give you a shoutout... like these ones:

**Miss DeBlanc**... so, that was all for you. Likey? hehe. I actually had fun with that character, even if she was OC... you're lucky, you know!

**Eski**... what can I say... you gave me my first ever review, and it was SO kind, and you've gotten even kinder since then... Thank you so very much. I think it's funny that you hate Ginny so much! I guess I kind of agree... I wish it wasn't her who was so insightful about Harry in the beginning... but it had to be there. I like Luna a whole lot more!

Thanks also to **T. Felton** and **emeraldwolf**, you guys are so great. And hi to sarah:)


	10. Chapter 10

See prologue for warning and disclaimer...

**Moonlight and Shadows: Chapter 10**

The next day, everyone but Harry seemed to be running everywhere. Teachers bustled up and down the corridors and into every room, wide-eyed and muttering to themselves. Apparently, then, it wasn't just Professor Trelawney that did this. Harry was aghast at how uptight everyone was. Even Ron seemed nervous and high-strung, and bit back at Harry when Harry asked about it at the staff table during lunch.

"Ron, you... you alright?"

"Well, just 'cause you don't have to worry about being liked and being _good_ at your job, just because everyone loves you and doesn't care what you do, because they're still always going to love you, and it doesn't matter what you say to them or what you do and stuff, you don't have to worry about not being liked by people or worry about losing your job... you don't have to–"

"Oh I don't know, Weasley," drawled Malfoy from Harry's other side. "With the trouble Potter gets into, he might just need to worry about it..."

Ron went on, not having heard Malfoy's comment, but Harry wasn't paying attention to Ron.

"What do you mean, I get into trouble?" he scowled at Malfoy.

"Oh, being out after hours, I suppose... not being prepared for classes..."

"How do you know? Maybe I know exactly what I'm doing!" Harry said defensively. Malfoy laughed.

"You? I wouldn't believe that."

"–everyone always looking up to you, probably even if you give them detentions they're still going to worship you..."

"Ron! Shut up!" Harry almost yelled. Ron just turned to Hermione and continued jabbering. Hermione nodded mutely, moving her lips and not paying any attention at all. She had been acting lately like she was studying for a final that she was utterly unprepared for. Yet Harry knew she had been getting help with organizing her lessons from Professor McGonagall, and she couldn't possibly be unprepared for classes.

Harry and Malfoy studied the two of them who were looking so peculiar, completely oblivious to one another.

"Are you sure they're teaching tomorrow and not going back on the train to be carted off to the mental ward of Saint Mungo's?" Malfoy asked dryly. Harry laughed, forgetting that it was Malfoy talking, and completely not registering that Malfoy was joking. He caught himself, but not before Hermione and Ron both turned to see what was funny. He sobered and turned to his food. Malfoy was already frowning at his plate like nothing had happened. But the moment was not lost on Harry, who slowly realized that he had _laughed_ at one of Malfoy's jokes. And the joke wasn't particularly cruel or mean...

By the end of the day, the teachers were still acting flustered, and it was spilling over to Harry. What if most people really were skeptical of him? They might know or assume that he was a good wizard or, yes, the saviour of the wizarding world. But what of his teaching skills? He had nothing– no training, no experience... in a way, he didn't even know all that he would be teaching his students. Surely they would know that and take advantage of him being new and not being a real teacher.

He decided he should just resign. He was walking to McGonagall's office, however, when he almost ran straight into Malfoy. Harry was set on ignoring him and keeping on with his mission.

"Are you heading to resign, Potter?"

"What?!" Harry asked, turning around with a look of alarm. Malfoy chortled.

"That's right– going to resign now?"

"What do you know about it?"

"She won't let you."

"What?" Harry asked again.

"She won't let you. I just tried, Potter. So don't even waste your breath." Malfoy turned back to go to the dungeons.

"Wait," called Harry once he had registered what Malfoy had said. Malfoy kept walking, so Harry made the split-second decision to follow him.

"Why?" he asked, catching up with Malfoy.

"None of your business."

"I knew you were going to say that. What, were you wussing out?" At that, Malfoy stopped, folded his arms, raised an eyebrow, and smirked.

"Yeah, Potter, that's right. What were _you_ doing then?" Harry didn't respond. "I suppose it was the pinnacle of heroic acts for you to ask McGonagall to fire your arse, before you'd even started. I suppose you thought it would be _heroic_ for you... but for me, of course... it's just wussing out. Is that right, Potter?" Without waiting for an answer, he left, and Harry didn't follow this time.

Of course, Malfoy was completely right. Of course he was. Well, to be fair... he didn't _consciously_ think he was being heroic. But honestly, he had to admit to himself... He was only going to go up to McGonagall because in the back of his mind, he knew she'd refuse his offer. And then, once she'd refused to dismiss him, she would reassure him that he would be fine at teaching. He might have even gotten some tips. Yes, he knew it only made his situation more pitiful if he tried to resign.

But why had Malfoy wanted to leave? Surely he couldn't be feeling unsure of himself at teaching... but then, maybe he wanted to go home? Maybe he had... something better to do? Harry almost smirked to himself at the statement, used so many times in the context of Malfoy...

Suddenly, it was almost twenty-four hours later, and he watched Hagrid walk down to Hogsmeade station to greet the abnormal amount of first-years... Harry's stomach clenched as he realized that the next morning, all of their small faces would be looking expectantly at him, and he would have no idea what to say to them all.

He lost track of time dismally looking out his window, but in no time at all the doors of the Great Hall were being wrenched open and Harry had to throw on his robes and rush down to the staff table. He took his place by Malfoy. Ron was off to escort the first years in for the sorting, but Hermione smiled a bit at Harry.

"Alrigh' Harry?" called Hagrid down the table, looking significantly cheery. Harry grimaced in what he hoped was a smile and nodded.

Everyone, even those who knew what to expect from the new teacher arrangements, was looking up at the staff table in interest. He thought he saw many faces frown in disappointment at Malfoy, but most eyes were focused on Harry, of course. Harry grabbed his goblet to hold in front of his face like a shield. But he hadn't expected it to be full of water, and he gasped as his neck and chest were drenched in iciness.

He hurriedly found his wand to clean it up, but glanced many amused grins throughout the Hall. Next to him, Malfoy looked like he was trying not to laugh, and Harry wondered why he didn't just laugh like he normally would.

Harry sat quietly after that, watching everyone he knew, and desperately wishing he could be in on Seamus' joke, which was clearly amusing most of Gryffindor House, and even Ernie MacMillan's exciting summer story. He was waving his arms dramatically, and several students were even leaned forward in their seats to hear him. Suddenly, Harry heard him, too.

"–giant, one of the biggest ones. You know, twenty-five to thirty feet tall, at least. Well anyway, it takes a swipe at me, and ends up getting the Death Eater I was battling! And then, well... I don't know, it gets a little boring after that..." at least twenty students gasped and started protesting. Malfoy snorted.

"He didn't get within eighty feet of a giant. He was mostly cowering under the West wall," he scoffed.

"How do you know?" asked Harry, keen to get this end of the story.

"Just do," Malfoy said evasively.

"I bet Ernie was doing ten times the fighting you were," Harry challenged. He wasn't even sure this was true– for all he knew, Ernie could actually be telling the truth.

"I _know_ he was, actually," Malfoy said, squinting at Padma Patil, who was dangling a live rat by its tail.

"What?" said Harry, caught off guard. Had he just admitted to not being part of the battle?

"Oh come on, Potter. Don't be so dense. You know I wasn't fighting."

"Well, I wouldn't have known if you hadn't told me."

"Yeah, well..." at that moment, Ron came in with the first years, looking almost as timid as the tiny eleven-year-olds. He cleared his throat vaguely, then feebly tried, "attention!" No one paid any attention to him. McGonagall stood suddenly and clapped her hands, and a loud _crack_ resounded through the Hall. All eyes were on her instantly.

"Attention, everyone! The sorting will now begin." She gestured to Ron, and all eyes turned to him instead. McGonagall sat down, and Ron brought the hat and stool forward. The motionless hat's brim opened wide for its first in the new free world...

_All students, great and small, beware,_

_Treat your Sorting Hat with care!_

_I've been in rough and evil hands,_

_I've seen hard times and wicked lands._

_Now we are all in better times,_

_And Hogwarts now will see great minds._

_This brings me to our present story– _

_Which House will bring each first year glory?_

_Now in peace must they unite,_

_And seek not more times of hate and fights. _

_Gryffindors most will honor this:_

_fearlessness, courage, and valour persist._

_If you be friendly, and overall kind, _

_You must be of the Hufflepuff mind._

_The smartest ever brains I saw_

_Ended up in Ravenclaw._

_Shrewd, tricky students not forgot– _

_They will have a Slytherin spot._

_Enjoy the years of peace ahead,_

_Though studying hard, you are not dead._

_Move on to great and better things,_

_Hogwarts has the peace you'll bring. _

Everyone clapped, remembering for the first time that the Sorting Hat had nearly been captured by Voldemort. Harry thought its speech was inspiring, but not sickeningly happy. The hat, like Harry, had recognized that peace would not just appear– the wizarding world needed to work toward it to be happy. Especially in Hogwarts, where the next generation would know what it was like to live in both hateful and peaceful extremes.

Ron stood to the side and called out names, and Harry listened closely to see who would be in his House. The first student was a boy named Thomas Bradbury. He was tall and gangly for his age, and he almost walked toward the Hufflepuff table before veering off to the Gryffindors at a run.

Sherman DeBlanc had the same color hair as his sister, but he had a distinctly different look about him. His eyes looked constantly focused on something, like he was concentrating very hard to figure something out all the time. He walked like he was trying to prove he was strong. _Almost like Krum_, Harry thought.

The boy sat on the stool for a long fifteen seconds before the hat declared him a Slytherin. Harry clapped with everyone else, but looked sideways at Malfoy, who couldn't hide his surprise. Harry, too, thought that any sibling of Svala's might be sorted into Hufflepuff. Gryffindor got many more students who all joined the crammed benches. All the House tables were looking very crowded, but everyone seemed to look comfortable enough, if very hungry.

Ron took the stool and hat off to the side of the staff platform and took his seat, groaning to Harry as he sat down. McGonagall stood and clapped again, and all eyes fell on her.

"Good evening, everyone. Welcome to another year at Hogwarts! I have many announcements to make, but they can wait until after dinner. For now, Harry Potter would like to welcome you all here–" Harry shook his head, trying to be subtle.

"No, Professor," he called to her in a whisper.

"What?" she turned to him.

"After dinner, please," he said. She turned back to the students, most of whom had pleading looks on their faces for food.

"Oh alright then," she sighed. "Mr. Potter has decided to hold his speech for after the feast as well." There were sighs of relief, then a standing ovation from many students. Harry couldn't help but smile at all the familiar faces as he caught snippets of "Thank Merlin for Harry!" "He's a lifesaver... I'm so hungry!"

McGonagall clapped her hands again and food appeared on the tables. Harry was used to the extraordinary Hogwarts feasts, but he was unprepared for the amazing variety he got that night. He sampled everything, only occasionally remembering his manners with Malfoy next to him and in his place as a teacher. Finally, when all evidence of dessert was cleared away and Harry was taking his last swig of pumpkin juice ("Don't spill, Potter," muttered Malfoy), McGonagall stood again. This time, she didn't need to clap, and she had every student's attention.

"Now that your stomachs are satisfied... I give you Mr. Potter." She sat down, but almost every other person in the Hall stood up, clapping. Some Slytherins and Malfoy scowled at the commotion, but everyone else was clapping and hollering at Harry, who had stood up and now wished he hadn't. The applause went on for much longer than Harry was comfortable with, but the Hall was silent when everyone sat back down.

"Er... Thank you," Harry started. A few people chuckled. "Welcome back... And it's great to be here again. Everyone here is very lucky and very privileged. Not only are you alive... but you also have the responsibility of carrying the message of the next generation out of Hogwarts, like the Sorting Hat mentioned. For those of you who have lost– anything or anyone– my condolences to you. Here at Hogwarts you have yourself, each other, and your education... all you need to make the wizarding world better next time around. I wish I could say something really... great... like Dumbledore could, but I can't. So, everyone... have a great year at Hogwarts!" He finished, sitting down, miserable with the outcome of his speech. It was another "hold hands and dance around" moment, he knew.

But the next second, everyone else was on their feet again, except for the stubborn Slytherins and Malfoy, applauding Harry. He reluctantly looked around and saw tear-stained cheeks and smiles, including Hermione's and Professor McGonagall's. He must have done something right, then...

McGonagall clapped again after a minute and everyone else sat down and fell silent.

"As you can see," she began, and Harry noticed her slightly choked voice, "we have many significant changes in our staff this year. Until Professor Sprout is fully recovered, I give you Professor Longbottom." Neville stood and got a sizeable amount of applause, which he beamed at. "Replacing me in Transfiguration is Professor Granger." Hermione stood and waved at everyone, getting applause and smiling. "Hogwarts' new caretaker and Disciplinary Manager is Mr. Weasley." Ron stood awkwardly, receiving his applause. "The Potions master this year is Professor Malfoy." Harry watched Malfoy stand and nod at his scattered applause. "And your new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher is Professor Potter." Harry thought that sounded extremely odd, coming out of Professor McGonagall's mouth, but he accepted it and stood for his third standing ovation.

"All rules are still in effect on Hogwarts Grounds. The Forbidden Forest is out of bounds, as always. There is an alteration to Hogwarts' disciplinary regulations. Until approximately one week ago, a rule was still in effect that allowed the Hogwarts Disciplinary Manager to punish students using physical means. However, Mr. Weasley himself has decided to revoke this option. Corporal punishment is no longer allowed at Hogwarts."

Again, the Hall erupted in applause, with loud cheers especially from those who had been at Hogwarts while the Carrows were taking advantage of being able to physically harm students.

"With that," McGonagall finished, "you may all go to bed to rest up for classes tomorrow! Good night."

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

A/N: I told you not to expect really long chapters! Sorry this is a bit shorter. But it IS an update!

I don't have time to do all the acknowledgements I would like to. But thank you to everyone who reviewed the last chapter. My reviews continue to be positive, which is very encouraging and motivating!

I'm back in town, but school starts soon and my brain will most likely be fried. But we'll see. Cross your fingers for a longer chapter next time. I would cross mine too, but then I couldn't type. :)

Keep reviewing! I love you all :)

jo


	11. Chapter 11

See prologue for warnings and disclaimer.

**Moonlight and Shadows: Chapter 11**

Reluctantly stepping into his khakis and dress shirt, Harry groaned to himself about the day to come. Maybe he had just one more day to prepare... He wouldn't actually have to open the doors of the Great Hall and see those hundreds of faces he had to teach... But he knew it was a lie before he'd even opened the doors. He could hear the chatter from all those students, and even saw some coming down the stairs toward him. He hurriedly found his seat and chomped on a piece of toast, not really being able to taste it.

Professor McGonagall handed him a stack of paper to pass out to all the Gryffindors– their schedules– and handed Malfoy the Slytherins'. Malfoy got up at once to distribute his, but suddenly Harry wasn't too keen on going down to the students who were once his fellow classmates. But Flitwick and Navarro (the new Muggle Studies professor, who was Head of Hufflepuff House) had already set out to their tables, and he couldn't delay.

Silence fell among the Gryffindors as he stood at the top of their table, and nearly everyone was looking at him with rapt attention. But he didn't need to give a speech just to hand out class timetables, so he quickly moved along the large number of first years. He stumbled with all of their names and didn't look anyone in the eye (_By now they must think I'm scared of them_, worried Harry). The second years were slightly more familiar, and in each year in knew more classmates and grew more comfortable.

By the time he got to the sixth years, he was getting pats on the back and being welcomed almost like a fellow student. Most people called him Harry, which he found substantially more comforting and less awkward. Near the seventh years, he was actually forced down on a bench between Seamus Finnegan and Dean Thomas and fed some eggs and bacon. Across from him was Ginny, who grinned and called him Professor Potter. She got catcalls from people who thought she and Harry were still a couple, and she laughed.

Harry looked up at the staff table to see if anyone had noticed or cared that he was missing. Hermione was frowning a little at him, but Ron had a wistful expression that clearly stated that he wanted to be down at the Gryffindor table as well. Hermione must have given him permission, because he bounded down from the platform a moment later and joined the crowd of seventh years, all of whom were happy to see him.

Malfoy had returned to his spot at the staff table, and Harry wondered why he hadn't stayed with his classmates as well. Most of the staff, then, left the table and Harry realized his first class started in five minutes. He said a hurried good-bye to everyone and dashed off.

He hadn't even set foot in his classroom since he'd moved in to his office, but someone had come along and cleaned it for him, so the desks shone brilliantly and his desk had a neat stack of parchment, a quill, and ink laid out on it. He took out his textbook for the first years and glanced at the first chapter: _Bond with the Wand_. Good place to start, he supposed... but surely very elementary? He tried to remember back to when he didn't know how to do any magic, when he'd never even seen any performed. These students would know more than he did, surely?

At that moment, his first class ambled in, unsure whether to be excited or fearful. They were a mix of new and old first years, of Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs. So he didn't have any students he knew in his first class... that would soon change...

"Just... take any seat..." said Harry feebly. If he didn't start being authoritative, they might never take him seriously. But he couldn't have them thinking he was mean... Everyone was seated before the bell rang, and Harry perched awkwardly on the corner of his desk, holding the list of names, which he read off steadily, looking up to see who was who, even though he knew it wouldn't do any good.

"I won't learn your names very soon, because I'm horrible at that, so just... be patient." The shiny-faced first years said nothing, but some smiled a bit. "So," he continued. "How many of you have never seen magic done before?" No one raised their hands at first, then a few timid hands went up. Harry quickly backtracked; he would not be accepted very readily if the first thing he did was humiliate them. "Ok, well don't feel bad. When I got on the train I hadn't seen or done any magic, and it was fine. No one expects you to be able to do anything right now." Some students visibly pouted.

"Professor Potter?" said one Ravenclaw girl boldly from the second row. He turned to her.

"What's your name?"

"Abigail Tressa."

"Ok. What was your question?"

"Is it true that you stabbed You-Know-Who with Gryffindor's sword while flying on a hippogriff?" Suddenly the class was wide-eyed and alert, nodding and looking curious.

"Er... I was hoping to teach today, actually." No one bothered to hide their disappointment.

"But Professor?" asked a stout boy in the back who reminded Harry of Neville, except that Neville would never contribute anything on the first day of class.

"What's your name?" asked Harry, determined to learn their names sooner, rather than later.

"Steven Falgren. No one ever tells us the truth. But you could." Everyone nodded again and Harry sighed.

"My friends helped me a lot. It was everyone's battle, not just mine." Ignoring him, the room erupted with questions.

"Did You-Know-Who actually commit suicide?"

"Don't be stupid, Professor Potter killed him with the sword!"

"Did all the Death Eaters stand in a circle and try to kill you?"

"Did you actually die and then come back to life?"

"Are you a _ghost_?" someone gasped.

"Enough!" Harry shouted. He wasn't particularly mad, just incredulous that these poor students could be fed such lies. Well... in a way it was true that he'd come back to life... but still. "You all need to stop repeating what you hear, because it's just making more rumours. Not everything you hear is the least bit true, especially if you didn't hear it from someone who was at the battle." He took a deep breath. "In the end, Voldemort's curse backfired. But he didn't commit suicide. And really, I wasn't the one who killed him. So, there you go. There was no hippogriff. There was the sword, but my friend Neville, Professor Longbottom, was the one who used it. He killed Voldemort's snake. Other than that, these are lies."

The class was silent, but still looking curious and eager.

"Now, there's a lot to learn, so we'd better get started now." The students shuffled a bit, looking slightly disappointed. "How long have you all had your wands?" They mumbled answers, ranging from three days to a few months. "But none of you have used them, correct?" The class nodded. "Ok, so essentially, you need to learn to trust your wand, and your wand will learn to trust you."

"Sir?" asked a girl to Harry's right.

"Name?"

"Jane Vernot. You talk like wands have feelings." Harry couldn't help but smile a bit.

"Do all of you have Ollivander wands?" They all nodded. "Well, I know Mr. Ollivander, and everything I learned about wands I learned from him. I said the same thing to him once about wands having feelings. It's true, in a way. You have to bond with your wand. Like, er... like the first chapter in your books. Does anyone not have their own wand?" Two boys raised their hands. "Ok," he continued. "Not having your own wand makes it a little harder to bond with it, but it's possible. So for now, let's all just stand up–" there was a scuffling and scraping of chairs as they all stood, "– and just wave your wands a bit."

"What do we say?" asked Abigail Tressa.

"Nothing. Just think of putting energy in your wand."

They all did similar jerky movements in the air. One boy's wand emitted a few orange sparks, another's let out a stream of smoke. Most, though, did nothing. They tried over and over again until the end of class, when Harry hurriedly assigned them the first chapter of their textbooks to read.

His next class was mixed of Gryffindors and Slytherins. They were fourth years, and Harry knew a few of them, including a few members of each Quidditch team. They were substantially less curious than the first years. Especially the Slytherins seemed to be very uninterested and bored with him, and Harry found this extremely refreshing. Of course they wouldn't want to know how exactly Harry defeated their Dark Lord. And the Gryffindors just had more tact than to ask Harry to relive it.

By the time Harry's fellow seventh years walked into the room, Harry was flustered with a mixture of wanting to hide in his room and have fun with the rest of the students in his year. Seamus and Dean were the last to walk in, hastily saying goodbye to Ginny, so smiled briefly at Harry before turning out the door. Everyone got settled and looked expectantly but confusedly at Harry, wondering how he would treat them. Harry sighed and sat on the edge of his desk.

"Hey, everyone," he grinned. The Ravenclaws and Gryffindors laughed in relief and the class passed exactly like D.A. meetings. Harry had decided to work on Patronuses, which were, conveniently, seventh year work. So many of the former D.A. members set out to assist the other students. Harry thought it went as smoothly as could be expected, with only a few students who weren't able to master the spell by the end of the class. He kept an eye on Seamus and Dean most of the time, without trying to be too suspicious. He still felt like he needed to watch out for Ginny as a brother, and he couldn't help wondering why she was spending so much time with the two guys.

As the class ended Seamus smirked and whispered something to Dean, who blushed slightly. Seamus laughed and threw an arm around Dean's shoulders as they left, chuckling. Harry was immensely glad that he'd finished with the last class of the day. He still had to head down to dinner, but he could relax until tomorrow, when he had to start all over again...

"...Poor Neville," Ron was saying as he sat down.

"What?" asked Harry.

"Oh, hi Harry. Well, the second years thought they'd pester Neville for stories, since Hermione didn't give them any. He ended up having to tell them all about the snake, and by the time they left, they'd invented this huge story of Neville's head getting eaten."

"What?!"

"So now most of Slytherin thinks that Neville's head is just barely hanging on, like Nearly Headless Nick's." Harry groaned. Hermione wasn't eating anything.

"I feel so horrible. If I'd just told them some short little story..."

"They would still have gone on and pestered Neville. Come on, Hermione. It isn't your fault, it was bound to be like this. One kid swore he'd drop a dozen Dungbombs if I didn't tell him about the dragon."

"What did you do?" asked Hermione, looking alarmed.

"I confiscated everything he shouldn't have had in his trunk."

"You _went through his trunk?!_" she exclaimed. Ron quickly backtracked.

"Well, no, I mean, I kind of... well, yeah, a bit... not really, though..." Harry tuned out the conversation and turned to Malfoy, who was eating hurriedly and looking preoccupied. Harry decided to throw caution to the wind... what did he have to lose?

"So, how were classes, Malfoy?"

"They were about as good as how it would feel if I punched you, Potter," answered Malfoy without looking up from his dinner. Harry threw one hand in the air as a surrender. He attempted to turn back to Ron, but he found Ron and Hermione still deep in their argument. Finally, he decided to simply get up and go back to his room. He ended up standing exactly at the same time as Malfoy, who turned and raised an eyebrow at Harry. Harry shrugged and followed Malfoy off the staff platform, walking slower and looking around the Great Hall. As he watched the Gryffindor table, Ginny, Dean, and Seamus all got up and walked toward the doors. Ginny was in the middle of the three, and Dean and Seamus both had their arms around her. Harry's eyes narrowed.

He had always trusted Seamus and Dean, even if Dean was famous for dating younger students and Seamus usually got Dean's leftovers. They were always good guys to be around, on the whole. But Harry didn't understand why the both suddenly had an interest in Ginny. Or maybe she had an interest in them? But, at the same time? Of course, Ginny had already dated Dean, but that was really no reason to not be interested in him again. But for the three of them... Harry's stomach churned as he thought of what might be going on behind closed doors. He supposed that he didn't really mind threesomes on principle, but for three people he knew very well... the idea just made him cringe. It didn't _look_ like Ginny was being forced into anything, but Harry still felt uneasy about the situation. What was going on?

Ron had asked for the Marauder's Map before the start of term, pointing out that it would do more good in his position than in Harry's, but Harry would not give it up. He therefore got it out sleepily and pondered the corridors, empty except for a few scurrying dots. Then he spotted the three he was looking for. Ginny, Seamus, and Dean's dots were together in an empty classroom on the sixth floor. They were stationary, but that wasn't necessarily good news to Harry. He made his decision.

It still felt odd to not worry about Filch's footsteps behind him or Mrs. Norris lurking behind the next suit of armor. He was perfectly entitled to being out-of-bed, which was even stranger than knowing he wouldn't get caught if he was wearing his Invisibility Cloak. He headed towards Ron's room, which he still tended to call "Filch's Office." Rather than sneaking up on Ginny, Seamus, and Dean, and risking catching them in an embarrassing situation, he'd decided to go see Ron first.

Ron took a while to answer the door, but Harry knew from the map that Ron wasn't asleep. He blearily opened the door and Harry hurried in without waiting to be invited.

"What is it?" Ron asked in a bored voice.

"I've been watching the map. And I've seen Ginny with Seamus and Dean several times. They've been around each other a lot. D'you... d'you know what's going on?" he finished, watching Ron rub his eyes.

"Harry, mate, why do you care? She's not with you. You don't have to get jealous. And if you _are_ jealous, you should do something about it, because–"

"I'm not jealous," Harry said quickly. "I just don't know what's going on. They weren't particularly good friends before."

"Look, you don't have to be worried about her. She's my sister."

"Ron, I know. But don't you think it's a little odd..."

"No, I don't! You have to think everything is odd so that you can solve every mystery! Well, do some research before you try to solve things that don't have to be solved. Ginny isn't in any danger at all. And how I know that, is that Seamus and Dean would never hurt her. They would never take advantage of her. And how I know _that_ is that Seamus and Dean are gay. They're a couple. And how I know _that_ is because Seamus told me a long time ago that he had a thing for Dean. So now they're together. And they would never hurt Ginny, because they just don't care about women. I mean, in _that_ way. I don't know why Ginny's good friends with them, but it doesn't really matter, because they're safe, Harry. So just... give it a rest!"

Harry was stunned into silence. Ron sighed and looked away. His eyes were fierce, but Harry knew he was still sore about his row with Hermione, and that it really didn't have anything to do with Harry or their conversation at all.

"Oh... ok..." was all Harry could think of to say. Ron was silent, still staring at his fireplace. "Sorry, then. I'll just... I'll just... go back then, shall I..." Harry faltered and stood, walking to the door. Ron said nothing, and Harry closed the door quietly behind him, coming face-to-face with Malfoy.

"Er... hi..." he said lamely. Malfoy raised an eyebrow in derision. For some reason, this gesture, which Malfoy performed almost every time he looked at Harry, made Malfoy's cheekbone particularly noticeable. Though the skin was pale, there was a dot of pink right on the bone, as if someone had pinched Malfoy's cheek. At the same time Harry thought this, he felt a stinging in his own cheeks as if someone had pinched his as well, which led him to the realization that he must be blushing slightly as well, for no apparent reason.

He folded his arms to cover up this peculiar sensation.

"You do realize, don't you Potter, that you are still a student?"

"And you are what, then?" asked Harry. Malfoy stared at him for a second, then chuckled slightly and walked off. Harry raised a hand to one cheek, noting its warmth, contemplating how in hell Malfoy could possibly think he was on a higher standing than Harry; that somehow he was exempt from student rules that Harry was not. If Malfoy intended to turn into Snape, well... Harry would have something to say about it. Besides, knowing what he knew about Snape now, Malfoy probably wouldn't want to have to fall in love with someone like Lily Evans to be exactly like Snape.

Harry lost track of his own thoughts, so he went to bed. Aberforth was either hunting or at the owlrey, so Harry didn't have anyone to say goodnight to as he put his pajamas on. His thoughts drifted back to Seamus and Dean, and he wondered when this had all come about. When had Seamus started being gay? He'd dated a few girls here and there... or was he always gay, and he'd just pretended to like the girls he dated? And what about Dean? He'd dated Ginny even... surely he couldn't have been gay then? Harry pondered the situation, musing that it must be hard for Seamus and Dean in some way, even if they looked so happy.

And how had they known? Had they always known they were gay? Or had Seamus always known he'd liked Dean? Harry couldn't stop asking himself questions he couldn't answer. He couldn't help it... he'd known this... what did they call it? Alternate lifestyle? Well, he'd known it existed, but had never really considered it... had never _really_ thought about it in relation to his friends. He didn't really feel any differently toward Seamus and Dean, just confusion. He couldn't stop question after question from entering his brain.

His last unanswered statement left him wondering, _What would it feel like?_ As his last thought before he drifted to sleep.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

A/N: A little short, again... but still progress, right? I promise I will try to update every weekend from now on. School is in full force and luckily, I've got my inspiration back with this chapter and I can pull forward with it... But I'm just not very fast with classes and homework and everything else.

THANK YOU again for the lovely reviews :) AND here are some shoutouts for my most recent reviewers:

**ninjaofthedarkness: **Yes! They will get together. They're slow movers! And I'm very against sudden, unexplained changes. Even I have to be patient with this one!

**emeraldwolf: **Kind as always! Thank you very much for the compliments, I will try very hard to keep it up.

**Robin-no-ouji:**I hope Teddy is adorable. I want him to be mine! Just kidding. Svala will take her NEWTS at Hogwarts and be in the graduation ceremony, but in the meantime she will be with Teddy.

**sordid:**Well, you redeemed yourself with that review. Thank you!

**animelover120: **Svala will stay a minor character, no matter how much we love her. Harry wasn't focusing very well on his apparition (cough), so he splinched himself. Thanks :)

**Jane Austen Girl:** I totally agree!!!! That "Professor Potter" sounds very strange. Unfortunately, that is now his title! Luckily not everyone calls him that. And incidentally, have you seen "Becoming Jane" yet?

**Sarah:** Lol youre special since I actually know your name, I guess. You are amazing, thank you for the compliments. You meant the Sorting Hat's song, right? Yeah the rhyme was better than I thought... but I still think JKR could do it better. Well duh, it's JKR. lol.

AND THANK YOU ALSO TO: Miss.DeBlanc, feuerfliege, faerylark, and shuichi'sgirl.

More soon, I hope. In the meantime, review, review, review (yes, YOU! Everyone who is favorite-ing my story without leaving a review!) Thanks :)


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